Blood of the Heir
by alicesandra
Summary: Sequel to 'The Legacy of Janus'. Set post season 5. Colonel John Sheppard is forced to return to Earth when his brother's life is in jeopardy, but where is he? John is forced to go 'dark' to find him. But nothing, and no one, is ever as it seems…. Rated T to start, but may need to change to an M as the story progresses…
1. Chapter 1

A/N: To those of you that are reading my stories for the first time, please make sure you read **The Legacy of Janus** first.

To those that have, welcome to the continuation of the story! I'm sorry that it took a little longer than expected to post this. I hope it was worth the wait.

Usual Disclaimers apply; I don't own any of the characters, or the Stargate world…that is purely for MGM's pleasure. I am merely playing in it for a while.

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 1**

The spirit of the Heir was emerging, and would soon be set free.

His rapid transformation continued, and the Heir had seen.

But sight alone did not bring understanding, especially to young and inexperienced eyes.

As his _Tutelar_, he would continue to observe the Heir, but the temptation to intervene was growing stronger, and resistance was becoming harder.

For now, he must wait. For now, his true identity and purpose must also remain hidden.

* * *

"_The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."_

The words of the great Albert Einstein were not usually disputed by Doctor Rodney McKay, but today, he had to beg to differ.

Of all the strange and unbelievable things the Atlantis Expedition had encountered over the past five years, none could quite equal what had taken place over the past two weeks.

After a series of incredible events, Atlantis was finally free to return to the Pegasus Galaxy, guided and commanded by none other than the new 'owner' of the ancient city: John Sheppard.

But John had gone through hell and back; and it really had been the stuff of nightmares. Watching his best friend lose his fight for life, and then ascend, had only been the beginning of a whole bunch of 'mysterious' things, and not many of them could be described as 'beautiful'.

However, in true form the Lt Colonel, or rather 'Colonel' due to his recent promotion, had come through it all.

But the experience had left an indelible mark upon his friend. Not only had his very DNA been altered, but he now appeared to have retained some of his ascended powers. Although no one, not even John, truly understood just to what extent.

Except, perhaps one man, but the strange Monk wasn't saying anything. Well, nothing that made any sense anyway.

Two days ago they had finally left Earth, and had begun their journey to the mysterious 'Place of our Legacy', which apparently was somewhere in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Rodney had, perhaps naively, thought that they had finally turned a corner; that they were now going to be able to find out just what the 'Legacy of Janus' really was, and what the implications were for John, who was now the Heir to that Legacy.

But, two hours ago, everything had suddenly changed. Murphy's Law, of 'anything that can possibly go wrong, will go wrong,' had decided to step in.

Again.

Two hours. Although to Rodney, it felt like only minutes. But then, according to Einstein, all time _was_ relative.

John's sudden, for want of a better word, seizure had come on so quickly that none of them had truly understood what had been happening until Brother Benedict had uttered the word, '_vision'_…

At the time, John hadn't said much, but what he had said had made Rodney's blood run cold. David Sheppard was in serious danger, and they were to go back to Earth immediately. The mysterious 'Place of our Legacy' would now have to wait…

From that moment on, John had kept everyone at a distance.

Rodney sighed heavily, as he brought his attention back to the monitor in front of him, as he sat at one of the consoles in the Control Room. The screen confirmed that the massive sublight engines were continuing to be pushed at maximum speed, as they raced back towards Earth.

Thankfully, the preparation that John had made to the city's systems before they had left the Milky Way was seriously paying off, or Rodney was sure that the engines would have burnt out long ago.

The power distribution from all 3 ZPMs were still working at optimum efficiency, the energy buffers were maintaining the flow of energy to the hyperdrive perfectly and the temperatures remained well within acceptable levels.

But the readings continued to show slight modifications to the power distribution levels, which normally would have raised serious concerns that someone was tampering with the city's systems.

Rodney knew for a fact that someone was.

He glanced up again, for what felt like the hundredth time, at the solitary figure in his office. Dressed in his usual black BDUs, Colonel John Sheppard stood staring intently out at the Stargate below, stroking his chin, appearing to be deep in thought.

But Rodney knew that he was doing far more than that.

"He is certainly working very fast," murmured Radek Zelenka, somewhat in awe, who sat at the console beside him. "And he's not even using a neural interface."

"Yeah, well," said Rodney, who couldn't help but marvel himself at the speed in which John was working and, as Zelenka had just confirmed, that he was doing it purely with his mind.

That, in and of itself, would have created a whole job load of tests and questions from Rodney. But not today.

Their need to find some way of boosting the power was all that mattered. Usually Rodney and Zelenka would have been able to find a way of 'borrowing' some from the secondary systems, and reroute it. But John had already done all that, and neither of them could find any other way of boosting the city's power.

Even the Naquadah generators, although powerful, were no match for 3 fully functioning ZPMs, so switching them out would not help. And John had already dismissed them as there was no safe way of running them in conjunction with each other. Rodney had questioned that, as the impossible was usually his middle name, but John had insisted that it wasn't a viable option.

"Surely he must know that there just isn't anything else we can do," commented Zelenka exasperatedly, as he peered over the rim of his glasses towards the Colonel. "We are still making good time, so perhaps…" he trailed off.

Rodney sighed heavily – again. "I know, Radek…" he replied despondently as he continued to monitor John's progress, or distinct lack of it.

He just felt so utterly frustrated! He was the great Doctor Rodney McKay; the man who was renowned for coming up with last minute schemes, often against insurmountable odds…but yet again, he seemed unable to deliver. A fact that didn't sit easily with him at the best of times, but even more so now, as the life of his best friend's brother seemed to be hanging in the balance.

Zelenka cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I just can't quite get used to seeing _him_ walking freely around the city," he uttered under his breath.

Rodney looked up, wondering who he was referring to, and then he saw him, walking slowly up the stairs towards them.

Brother Benedict, the supposed Guardian of the Legacy, struck an imposing figure. Standing at about 6ft, his blond hair was cropped short, and his attire reminded Rodney more of a Jedi knight than a member of some strange Janus cult. With brown tunic and pants, the Monk wore a blue sash about his waist and dark brown leather boots.

But it was not just the attire, or his strange white eyes, that set this mysterious man apart.

Although Rodney supposed the Monk could be considered handsome by some; with chiselled cheekbones and defined mouth, he also had a strange air about him. It was as though the energy around him almost vibrated, and his voice seemed to exude power and authority. His very presence acted like some kind of magnet, drawing you in. And, although he spoke predominantly in Italian, he certainly didn't look like he originated from Italy. At this point, no one knew just where he did come from. Except, perhaps John, and he had spoken little about him, or the cult.

What was even stranger to Rodney was that John seemed to trust him. Well, perhaps not completely trust him as such, as he knew that his friend rarely trusted anyone. It was rather that they had reached some kind of respectful understanding.

Brother Benedict moved almost majestically passed where Rodney and Zelenka sat, not once acknowledging their presence and John turned towards them, as if sensing the monk's approach. The brother walked across the walkway and into John's office, bowing his head slightly towards John, who then gestured for him to take a seat.

Rodney was about to turn back to the monitor, when John gestured to him to join them. He didn't need to be asked twice.

The moment he arrived at the doorway, John spoke low, his tone questioning. "Rodney."

Rodney grimaced, knowing that John would already know what he was about to say. "Well, at our current speed, we will make it back to Earth within a day."

"That's too long," replied John darkly.

"It's not like we have a choice, Sheppard. We, or rather you, have diverted all the power that can be taken from the secondary systems. There's nothing else we can do."

John then looked at Benedict, whose expression was as tranquil and unreadable as ever.

"Brother Benedict?"

The monk did not reply, but merely blinked his white eyes at him.

John tried again. "There _is_ another way, isn't there?"

The monk just continued to stare at him, and John met his gaze. Rodney looked from one to the other, as a silent battle of wills appeared to be taking place. Just when he was about to say something, the Monk spoke, slowly and in his broken heavily accented English.

"You know answer."

John's lips tightened and his expression grew darker, yet his voice remained calm and controlled. "If I already knew the answer, why would I be asking you?"

The man leant his head on one side as he continued to regard John carefully. "Your eyes are open, but do no see. The spirit speaks, but you no listen. Open your heart, young Heir, and your answer will be found."

Rodney couldn't help but roll his eyes. Yet more riddles. He wasn't quite sure how John could be so patient with the guy.

John sighed heavily, as he looked back at the Monk before he turned away to once more stare down at the Stargate below, and silence filled the room.

But within moments, John suddenly spun around to face them again, and his eyes were wide. Rodney couldn't help but wonder if John was about to have another seizure.

John stared intensely at Benedict, who merely inclined his head slowly. "_Bravo._"

John almost looked pleased with himself, as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Sheppard?" Rodney wasn't sure what had just happened, but it appeared as though John had had some kind of epiphany. "What is it?"

His friend looked at him. "The answer, Rodney."

"I'm sorry, what?"

But John didn't reply, and merely looked back at the Monk, as if he was seeking further confirmation. Again, Benedict just inclined his head slightly.

"Sheppard?" Rodney couldn't help the exasperation seep through into his voice.

"The Wormhole Drive."

"What?" Rodney spat out sharply, surprised. "No, no, no. The Drive was burnt out when Atlantis jumped back to Earth over three months ago!" He couldn't quite believe that John could have forgotten that fact.

But, instead of answering him, John quickly made for the door.

"Where are you _going_?"

John turned on his heel, and replied simply, "to find out how to fix it…"

For a moment, Rodney couldn't begin to think how he was going to do that…and then he did.

The Rod of Janus: the strange and intriguing device that apparently was a portable version of a Repository of Knowledge. It had been left to John, or rather discovered, as part of the mysterious Legacy of Janus.

Something else that was on Rodney's ever growing list of things to ask John about, just as soon as things calmed down…whenever that would be!

With that, John headed quickly out, and Rodney rushed quickly after him.

Sure enough, John headed straight for his quarters. The moment the door swished open John moved quickly across to his bedside table, while Rodney glanced around the room.

Sheppard's quarters were usually meticulously tidy, but somehow it looked almost unlived in now. But, considering what had been happening, Rodney supposed there hadn't been a lot of time for him to do anything other than sleep there.

John pulled open a draw, grabbed the crystal device, and then looked back at him. "Let's get this to your lab, Rodney. I have a feeling we are gonna need your tech to hand when I do this…"

Rodney could only nod, and then followed his friend out, once more at a chest tightening speed.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Ok, here goes nothing." John seemed almost nervous as he once more held the Rod in his right hand, which currently appeared to be switched off.

Rodney fully understood why, as the last time John had activated the strange device it had caused him pain, but his desire for answers clearly overrode his concerns.

John slowly closed his eyes and his face instantly took on the look of utter peace. The beautiful crystal rod instantly activated; bathing the entire lab with its strange blue light and its harmonic resonance. John's chest rose as he took a slow intake of breath, and the blue energy suddenly grew brighter, and the resonance began to vary its frequency. The Rod of Janus was singing once more for the Heir.

The bright light seemed to grow more intense, and John uttered a slight groan at the sudden shift in power, causing Rodney to wince. He had asked John if Carson should be present, but John had just given him one of his looks, so he had left it at that. Rodney just prayed that he wouldn't regret that decision.

John's brow furrowed ever so slightly and then breathed out slowly, as if he was trying to centre himself; perhaps to allow the information to flow unhindered.

The light began to grow, and it was now so bright that Rodney could hardly see his friend through it.

"Sheppard?" he asked cautiously.

No answer.

"John?" His anxiety heightened as he heard another deep groan come from within the almost blinding light. Should he have gone against John's wishes and sent for Carson anyway? Perhaps he would wait just a little longer.

He just hoped that John knew what he was doing….

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The Mess Hall was reasonably busy, but out on the balcony it was quiet, and a lot more conducive for contemplation and reflection. Well, as much as there could be, with Torren John Emmagen about.

Although he was a very well behaved little boy, his ever growing vocabulary created a constant chatter, which broke Teyla's thoughts. This wasn't such a bad thing, considering that most of them were only serving to raise her anxiety levels much higher than she was comfortable with.

So much had happened in the last two weeks, and there hadn't truly been a moment where she had been able to fully comprehend the enormity of it all. Atlantis, the Legacy of Janus, the Heir, Brother Benedict…and John.

Their relationship had taken on a whole new level, and whilst she was still rather overwhelmed and elated that they had finally taken it to the next level, she couldn't help but think of a certain person, who would also be deeply effected by this turn of events.

Her train of thought was instantly interrupted yet again, but not by Torren, who was playing happily on the floor at her feet, but by the arrival of Jennifer.

"Hi Teyla," she greeted warmly, "may I join you?"

Teyla smiled back at her friend, and gestured for her to do so. "Please."

Jennifer placed her tray down on the table and pulled out a chair opposite her. "Hey there, little guy," she said, bending down to Torren, who looked up and chattered nonsensically at her. Smiling, she reached out and took a sip from her glass, though looked at Teyla over its rim as she did so.

"How are you?" Jennifer asked after she had placed the glass back down on the table.

Teyla sighed and smiled at her. She knew that she meant well, but most of the thoughts she was having could not really be divulged at this point, especially when it came to John. "I am fine, Jennifer."

Jennifer leant forward, resting both elbows on the table. "You know, as a Doctor, I am well used to keeping things…you know, confidential."

Teyla frowned slightly. "I…don't know what you mean."

Jennifer smiled and sat back in her chair, regarding her carefully. "I think you do, you just don't want to admit it."

Luckily Torren had decided that it would be a perfect time to throw his toy half way along the floor, squealing loudly as he did so. Gratefully, Teyla slid her chair back and went to retrieve it, and Jennifer remained silent as she did so.

Only when Teyla had sat down, did Jennifer speak again.

"No one is judging you, Teyla. In fact, everyone is pretty pleased about it."

Teyla looked up at her sharply. "Everyone?"

Again, Jennifer smiled. "C'mon. Not everyone is as blind as Rodney. It has been pretty obvious…for some time now."

"Well…" Teyla began. "It is not something that we wish to…" she trailed off, unsure of how best to continue.

Sensing her discomfort, Jennifer quickly set about setting her friend at ease. "Hey, it's ok. You don't need to explain. I just wanted you to know that, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

Teyla couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, and looked gratefully at her. "Thank you, Jennifer. I will bear that in mind."

Both of them slipped into an easy silence as they continued to sip at their drinks. But Jennifer was still watching her, and Teyla knew that she had not dropped the matter completely.

"So, I guess that, now we aren't going back to the Pegasus Galaxy, you won't be able to…address a certain matter…with a certain person."

Teyla sighed, knowing exactly who she was referring to. "No."

"Do you think that…he will understand?"

Teyla had been wondering the very same question for a while now, and she was torn. "I…do not know. I would like to think…that he will."

"But?"

Teyla stared out at the strange lights of stars shooting passed them, as they continued to race through hyperspace. "It is one thing to accept my decision to stay on Atlantis, and to journey to Earth, rather than stay with my people. It is, however, another matter entirely to understand that my heart now belongs to…another."

Jennifer merely nodded her understanding.

"I do not wish to cause him pain," Teyla continued wistfully. "But he has a right to know. And he deserves…to be happy with someone that truly loves him."

"Well, for what its worth, and of course I don't know him as well as you do, but Kanaan has always struck me as being a very fair and well balanced man. I'm sure he would only wish for you to be happy."

Teyla felt her eyes fill with tears as the face of her childhood friend once more came into her mind. She knew it would break his heart, and that did not sit easily with her. But she also could not allow him to continue to live under the misconception that she reciprocated his love. She had to be cruel to be kind. She had to set him free.

"I know, Jennifer, but it does not make it any easier a task."

"No," replied her friend carefully. "But considering just what you have now…I'm sure that if it was me, I would be prepared to do whatever it took."

Teyla allowed herself to smile at that.

Jennifer then shifted in her chair. "So, have you spoken to Colonel Sheppard since…?"

Teyla's smile sank, knowing exactly what she was referring to. "No. He has asked to be left alone…for the moment."

"That's gotta be hard."

"Indeed."

"Still, at least Rodney is there to keep an eye on him," Jennifer offered, as if that would give her some reassurance. They smiled, both knowing the very nature of Doctor Rodney McKay all too well.

"Yes. There is that." Teyla drifted once more into silence.

"I'm sure they will find a way, Teyla. They usually do."

Teyla looked back at her, knowing that she was right. She just hoped and prayed that they would make it back to Earth in time.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his chair as he glanced nervously at the clock on the wall of his lab.

Fifteen minutes. Though it felt longer since John had 'connected' to the Rod, and there wasn't any sign that it was going to stop anytime soon.

Apart from the slight groans Sheppard had given when he had first activated the device, he had not uttered another sound, and Rodney still couldn't see through the bright blue light that continued to envelop his friend.

He knew that John's so called powers were continuing to manifest themselves, so he just hoped that he was able to control whatever the device was doing to him, just as he prayed that John was able to find the answers that he was looking for.

At that very moment, the Rod suddenly stopped its strange song, and the bright blue glow instantly extinguished, to reveal his friend, who was thankfully still in one piece.

John gasped, as though he had been holding his breath the entire time, and swayed so much that Rodney couldn't help but shoot out of his chair and take a step towards him. But John reached out to grasp hold of the bench in front of him, and once more regained his balance.

"Sheppard?" he asked cautiously. He had no idea what effect it would have to be connected to the device for so long, but he was sure that it couldn't be good for him.

John didn't reply, but slowly opened his eyes, staring blindly at the floor.

"John?" he spoke again, a little louder this time. "Are you…ok?"

Rodney felt his heart rate pick up a little faster, and he was sorely tempted to radio for Carson.

John noticeably swallowed hard and then looked up, straight at him. His eyes were once more glowing brightly, again reminding Rodney of the film 'Dune', just as they had when he had had his vision. Was John going to start speaking in a foreign language, just like he had before?

John blinked slowly, and the blue quickly faded to reveal his deep hazel eyes.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, sounding rather dazed. "Just…a little dizzy there for a second."

John slowly looked down at the Rod that was now completely silent, and he breathed out deeply. A small smile began to appear.

"So…did you find…whatever you were looking for?"

"Oh yeah."

Rodney was hoping for a little more than that, but before he had a chanced to ask, John then placed the Rod carefully onto the bench, and without uttering another word, suddenly strode out of the lab.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Rodney, "Sheppard!"

He then growled frustratingly, and then charged out after him.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Ok, Sheppard, would you mind explaining to me just how the Nanite Creation Machine is possibly going to help fix the Wormhole Drive?" Rodney asked indignantly, as he folded his arms.

However, John didn't reply, but merely carried on working in the panel, shifting the ancient crystals from one port to the next.

Rodney frowned. Could the machine have other functions other than creating Nanites? It would appear so, but he couldn't begin to figure out what. But then, he hadn't just connected to a Repository device that supposedly contained all the knowledge of Janus himself.

He went to peer over John's shoulder to watch him work. Usually his friend would be rather hesitant to start moving the ancient crystals about, but now he was working so fast that even Rodney had a hard time keeping up.

Rodney's frown deepened. He had worked with the various forms of Crystal technology over the years, and he could honestly say that he hadn't seen the particular configuration John appeared to be using.

John pushed the Control panel closed, and stood up. He then placed his hands on two 'palm' rests, which Rodney had never noticed had been there before, and closed his eyes.

The entire machine instantly sprang to life, and the silver like liquid substance appeared and began to form into a more solid shape. Then another, and another, until three strange looking objects now lay on the table before them.

"What the…" Rodney began to say, as he peered closer. He had never before seen anything like the odd looking items that had just been created.

John quickly opened his eyes, removed his hands, and the machine immediately shut down. He stared down at the strange objects, and another small smile began to appear.

Rodney was just about to ask him what they were and what else the machine could do, when John suddenly picked up the pieces and once more shot out of the room.

Rodney gave yet another exasperated growl, and once more headed out after his friend.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

No matter how hard Rodney tried to get him to explain just what he was doing to fix the Wormhole Drive, John had remained stubbornly silent.

He actually appeared to be so focussed, that Rodney wasn't sure if John was even aware that he was there. It was as though the device had altered his state of consciousness somehow.

Rodney's legs were beginning to ache from standing still for so long, and was about to sit down on the floor, when John finally pushed himself out from under the tight section of panelling he had managed to squeeze himself into. He bounded to his feet, brushed himself down, and without a glance at him, once more headed towards the door.

"Hey!" cried Rodney indignantly, "Where are you going now?!"

He almost wasn't expecting a response, so was rather surprised when John actually answered.

"To the Control Chair!" he shouted back, now half way down the corridor.

"Sheppard!" Rodney cried out after him, but the Colonel had disappeared around the corner.

"Damn it!" said Rodney, and once more sped off after him.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The moment Teyla had heard Rodney's rather frantic message over her comm, she had quickly asked if Jennifer minded looking after Torren. Seeing as she had heard the same message, she nodded quickly and Teyla shot off in the direction of the Control Chair Room.

Although Rodney had not elaborated on what John was about to do, the tone of his voice was enough to fill her with concern, and for her stomach to churn uncomfortably.

As she drew closer to the Chair Room, she could clearly hear Rodney's sceptical voice.

"So, what, you fixed it?"

"Yes." As usual, John sounded calm.

"You have fixed the Wormhole Drive that had been completely fried."

"Yes, Rodney."

As she entered, she saw that John was already in the chair and reclining back into position.

"John? Rodney?"

John instantly looked up and smiled gently at her. "Hi, Teyla."

"May I ask what is going on?"

But before John could reply, Rodney beat him to it, in his usual blustering manner.

"Sheppard appears to have fixed the Wormhole Drive, and is about to bring it back online. But…." Rodney then turned back to John. "If your calculations are out by even a fraction, it will instantly vaporise the entire city!"

John looked intensely at him, but still spoke slowly and calmly, just as he usually did when dealing with a rather agitated Doctor McKay. "I know that, Rodney, and they _won't _be. Trust me."

Teyla was concerned, of course. But they had all learnt to trust John's instincts implicitly, and it was no different now.

But Teyla also knew that whenever a life was at stake, John was known to take more risks than usual, especially when that life was a member of his own family.

Although there was no way to know for sure if what John had seen had just happened, or if it still had yet to occur, but Teyla knew that he would still blame himself if something happened to David.

It was neither right, nor fair, but that was just how John was.

Teyla also knew that he was afraid. Not for himself, but for his brother.

And that made him dangerous.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Sheppard!" Rodney tried one last time, but John didn't reply. He merely closed his eyes and instantly connected with Atlantis.

John's silent treatment was really beginning to grate on Rodney's nerves. He never liked being cut out of the loop, especially where the city's systems were concerned. And, even though he knew John didn't need his help, it would be nice if the man would at least give him something!

Rodney then heard the click of the city wide speaker system, and John began to speak.

"Attention, all personnel. This is Sheppard. I am about to initiate the Wormhole Drive. So please…place your seats into the upright position, and wait until the city comes to a full and complete stop, before you continue with your daily business."

Rodney had to fight hard not to smile slightly at the man's style…even now he seemed to manage to inject a tiny bit of humour into the situation, even though that must be far from what he was feeling right now. It was so like him.

"Stand by…" John then took in a slow deep breath, and seemed to sink even deeper into the Chair.

Rodney resisted the urge to curl up into a tiny ball, as if that would somehow stop his body from being vaporised into millions of tiny atoms.

And then he felt it. His entire body seemed to shudder, as though all his protons and electrons were suddenly being scrambled…and then… it was over, all in a matter of seconds.

He couldn't help but pat himself down quickly. Yep, everything was present and correct. He looked at Teyla and John. Yep, they were still here, and also in one piece.

So, had it worked? Were they back in Earth's orbit? Without a window to look out from, it was hard to say if the Wormhole 'jump' had actually worked, or whether they were still a day away.

John breathed out slowly, and then the click of the city wide speaker system sounded out once again.

"This is Sheppard. The jump was successful, and we are now in Earth's orbit. So, you are clear to proceed with…whatever it was that you were doing."

This time, there was no trace of light hearted humour in his tone.

John slowly opened his eyes, and began to sit up, and the Chair instantly moved him back into the upright position. He stared over at them for a moment, lingering on Teyla the longest, before he looked away. After a slight pause, he then spoke again.

"This is Colonel John Sheppard, identification code Bravo Delta Charlie Alpha Niner. I need to speak to General Landry immediately."

John had connected directly to Stargate Command. His voice sounded strong and commanding, but Rodney knew him too well not to recognise the slight break in his voice.

John then took a sharp intake of breath, and his posture stiffened in the Chair. "General, Sir. Yes, Sir, we are back. I…"

General Hank Landry had obviously interrupted him and Rodney held his breath.

Within moments John's eyes began to widen, his brow furrowed, and his mouth began to open. He looked utterly devastated.

_Oh no….._

John's mouth then clamped shut and became a tight line, his eyes narrowing as his expression slowly turned from complete shock to pure anger.

"When?" John growled, deep and menacing. The atmosphere in the room now felt electric, as his strange yet powerful energy began to build.

_Oh God, no…. _Rodney glanced quickly at Teyla, who looked as anxious as he was.

John then grimaced hard, and looked sharply at the floor, taking another jagged intake of breath as he did so.

"No, Sir, that won't be necessary. I'm on my way."

The conversation with the General had clearly ended as John slowly got to his feet, and the Chair instantly deactivated.

Rodney had almost forgotten to breathe.

"John?" Teyla almost whispered, clearly afraid to hear his answer.

John slowly raised his eyes looked up at them. His eyes were once again dark and smouldering; his expression deadly.

"I'm too late, Teyla. He's…gone."

**To be continued…**

**Post script:**

As always, please let me know what you think, as your reviews help more than you can possibly imagine, and it drives the story forward.

Oh, and just so you know there are going to be quite a few cliff hangers throughout this story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 2**

Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill pressed the 'end call' button on his cell phone, and sighed heavily.

The day had started reasonably well, considering it was a Monday morning. His personal assistant had brought his usual steaming mug of fresh coffee and pastry, right on time. His first meeting of the day hadn't been due to start for another hour, which meant that he could savour his breakfast in peace.

As was his standard routine, he had turned on the TV to catch the latest news, although the sound was off and the subtitles were on, as he hated to be talked at before he had finished his first coffee. These were the small luxuries that reminded Jack that there were in fact some perks to being 'The Guy'.

He had just taken a large gulp of said drink, when a very familiar face suddenly flashed up on the screen. He had promptly choked the second he had read the scrolling text along the bottom.

_**Wealthy business Mogul, Mr David Sheppard is missing, presumed kidnapped**_….

From that point on, Jack's day began to go downhill rapidly, as had his mood.

The SGC and Homeworld Security were supposed to be the best of the best, so how the hell did TV reporters found out about this before he had?

After contacting Hank Landry at the SGC, an immediate sweep for David Sheppard's subcutaneous transmitter had confirmed that they were no longer able to pick up its signal.

This was concerning, in and of itself, as he had left specific instructions to check on the man's location every six hours which, at the last check in, had been working perfectly.

He had then gotten his assistant to cancel all his meetings and appointments for the entire day, and had literally hot-footed it down to San Francisco as quickly as his weighty position of power could afford him.

It hadn't taken long before his driver had carefully steered through the throng of blood thirsty news reporters, and drew up outside the Sheppard family home.

Jack had known for years that John Sheppard came from a rather affluent background, but seeing it had actually surprised him. The guy had never struck him as being the quintessential 'rich' type.

But all that was quickly forgotten the moment he had set foot inside and received a quick Sit Rep from the attending San Francisco PD Detectives. It wasn't long after that the Hostage Negotiation Team had turned up.

And then, to top off the morning nicely and further sour his mood, the NID had decided that they wanted to get in on the action. He thanked God that Harry Maybourne had decided to remain 'King' of his so called people off-world, instead of staying with the NID, or Jack really would have wanted to hit someone!

Luckily, he remembered this particular guy: Agent Malcolm Barrett. He had come through for Carter and Daniel a few years back, and had proven himself to be a useful contact in the past. If memory served him correctly, the Agent had even blackmailed Senator Kinsey at one point, which meant a great deal in Jack's book.

And now, just when he thought the day couldn't get any worse, he had just received a rather concerning call from Hank on his cell phone.

Colonel Sheppard had suddenly returned, and had 'parked' Atlantis right where it had been not two days ago; on the dark side of the Moon.

He had always hated Mondays, and this was going to be no exception.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Considering the amount of ancient technology they had at their disposal, Doctor Daniel Jackson was somewhat bewildered as to why someone hadn't actually thought to figure out a way of making the elevators go any faster.

It slowly rumbled up the first 17 levels from Stargate Command, where he had to get out of that elevator and get into another, equally unhurried one, to travel up the remaining 11 levels from Stargate Command towards the surface. Both felt like they were running on steam power rather than electricity.

He breathed deeply, trying to steady his nerves a little, but it didn't help. He still had the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and had done so from the moment he had been called into General Landry's office to be told the extremely alarming news.

David Sheppard had gone missing, and that John had unexpectedly returned, and was now on his way here.

Apart from the disturbing news about David, the question as to why John had suddenly come back, continued to play on his mind.

Landry had confirmed that they hadn't sent a message to Atlantis, and that John had actually contacted him, completely out of the blue. They had been at least two days into their return journey to the Pegasus Galaxy, so how had John returned so fast and why?

Had he known that his brother was in danger? Could one of John's powers be that of Premonition?

The elevator finally reached the surface, and Daniel quickly made his way towards the gigantic 25-ton steel and concrete blast door, and out into the blazing sunshine. It was easy to forget the time of day, so deep below the surface as the SGC was.

Sure enough, just as he turned into an area that the SGC used for training recruits, he saw the familiar shape of a puddle jumper, its drive pods retracting into place as it slowly touched down.

Daniel began to walk over towards it just as the rear hatch began to lower.

He grinned at the familiar figure that seemed to almost fill the entrance. "Hi Ronon, how are you?"

"I'm good," predictably short as usual.

"Hi Rodney," Daniel said jovially, as the scientist was the next to emerge.

"Jackson!" Rodney replied, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Daniel's grin widened. "Oh, you know. I work here…."

"Oh, yeah, of course you do…"

At that moment, Teyla came out from behind him, who instantly broke into a warm smile.

"Daniel, it is good to see you again."

"Teyla."

She made her way down the ramp, and they both moved to greet each other in the traditional Athosian way. It was actually one greeting that, of all the many different cultures Daniel had encountered over the years, he genuinely preferred this one the most.

They both stepped back, and he looked at her carefully. She looked tired, but well. He was about to ask her how she really was, when her smile faded and she glanced back as John strode down the ramp.

"Hi John," said Daniel, trying to sound as upbeat as he could.

"Daniel!" The dark expression on John's face instantly lightened.

They shook hands, and John clapped him affectionately on the other arm. "I didn't expect to see you here…"

"Yeah, well, SG1 has some down time at the moment. Sam has just left on the Hammond, and Teal'c is spending some quality with his son, Rya'c and his wife, so Mitchell and I are just…" he trailed off. Now was not the time to be discussing this. There were much more pressing matters.

But John cleared his throat, and attempted a smile. "Well, I did say that we'd see each other again…"

Daniel couldn't help but smile back at him. Even now, John attempted to remain upbeat, despite how he must be feeling. But then Daniel's own smile slowly began to fade; John had indeed promised him that they would see each other again.

"Yeah," Daniel replied gently," though this is not quite what I had in mind."

"No." All trace of John's smile quickly disappeared, and the dark look returned once more. "Me neither."

Daniel regarded him carefully. Dressed in his usual black BDUs, he now wore a black leather jacket, minus the SGA patch. But it was the expression on his face that concerned Daniel.

He was sure it was not solely down to the bright sunshine that was causing the tight lines and dark shadows around John's eyes. He looked tired and drained. Was it the worry of his brother, or were his powers continuing to effect him?

But now was not the time to go into that. General Landry was not a man to be kept waiting.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Daniel once more glanced over at Teyla.

John had been in with the General for over half an hour, and she had grown restless, so had moved away from the others and now stood by the large window of the Briefing Room, which overlooked the Embarkation area.

Rodney and Ronon were both sat at the large table, busily working their way through the hastily provided sandwiches, as Rodney continued to talk to Doctor Lee; something about ZPMs and Wormhole travel, but Daniel wasn't really paying attention to them.

Convinced that they were suitably distracted, Daniel took the opportunity to quietly push his chair back and made his way over to her. She glanced up at him, and smiled.

"Hey, Teyla. So how are you?" Daniel asked gently.

"I am well, Daniel, thank you. As are you, I hope?"

Daniel never quite got tired of listening to the rather elegant way in which she spoke. "Yeah, I'm good thanks."

Teyla's eyes gravitated once again towards the closed door of General Landry's office.

"I, er, thought I wouldn't see you guys again for months…what happened_?"_

She sighed, drawing her eyes back to him. "Much has happened since we left, Daniel."

In only two days? Daniel gave her the space to continue which, after glancing slightly at the others, she did.

"John…had a vision." Her voice was steady, but the way her eyes shifted slightly convinced him that she was masking her true feelings.

Daniel frowned. "Of David's kidnapping?"

Teyla nodded. "It was…most unsettling to watch. He…John's eyes shone so brightly, that I thought…."

Her calm facade suddenly faltered, forcing her to take a deep breath and she looked up at the ceiling, as if to halt the recollection and the tears.

"But, he's ok now, right?"

Teyla looked back at him, her eyes glistening. "I…believe so."

Daniel raised an eyebrow questioningly, prompting her to continue.

"John is…has been so focussed since the vision, I do not..." she trailed off again, but seemed to force herself to continue. "I have not had a chance to talk to him properly. But…"

Daniel looked at her sympathetically. "He is beginning to close down, isn't he?"

She nodded sadly. "He will talk to me…when he is ready. Of that, I am sure."

Daniel had seen guys like John go through this kind of thing before, over and over again.

"It's called De-compartmentalisation, Teyla. It's a technique that all military personnel tend to use, especially during times of combat. It lets them disconnect themselves from their emotions, allowing them to remain completely focussed on the job. Jack, Sam…even I, have been known to use the same techniques at times."

"I see," said Teyla slowly, clearly not realising there was an actual name for what John did. Although Daniel knew that, in John's case, there was more to it than that.

He gave her a small smile. "Although, some are better at doing it than others, and considering all the front line action John had seen _before_ he even set foot in the Pegasus Galaxy, it's not surprising that he has got it down to a fine art."

She smiled weakly back, but he knew that he hadn't really allayed her fears much. "Don't worry, Teyla, it normally doesn't last very long. Well, at least until the…."

He was about to say 'mission' or 'objective'; and both felt rather callous. He tried again. "I'm sure he will talk to you soon. After all," he tried to sound more upbeat, as he quickly changed track, "he isn't alone anymore. He now has you…"

Her smile widened slightly. "Yes, he does."

He quickly returned her smile, and he inched closer to her, lowering his voice even further. "How's that going, by the way? Does…Rodney know yet?"

Teyla glanced once more at her friends. "No not yet. We were going to tell people, but…" she faded out, as did her smile.

"Well, I'm sure that there will be time for that, just as soon as we get David back, safe and sound."

"I pray that you are right, Daniel."

Teyla once more looked at the closed door of General Landry's office.

At that very moment the door suddenly flew open, causing everyone in the room to turn sharply as both Landry and John came out. Both men looked understandably grim.

Usually this was when they would all sit around the table to discuss the various ways in which to proceed on a mission, but not today. It appeared that John and Landry had already had that discussion.

"Doctor Jackson," Landry said, in his usual gruff manner, "Colonel Sheppard and his team are going to his family home. I want you to accompany them."

"Yes, sir," replied Daniel, relieved that he wasn't going to have to persuade him to let him go.

At that moment, Harriman appeared at the doorway. "Transport is ready, Sir."

Landry nodded and then turned to John. "I will inform General O'Neill that you are on your way."

John nodded once. "Thank you, Sir."

"Oh," added Landry, gesturing towards Ronon, "and you might wanna find some more appropriate clothing before you leave."

Ronon scowled, clearly not happy with the thought of having to change, but didn't reply.

Landry then turned back to John. "Good luck, Colonel, and God's speed."

"Thank you, Sir."

With that, the group headed out.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney couldn't help but feel a sense of dread the moment they stepped out into the bright sunshine, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard starting up.

Of all the various modes of transport he had travelled in over the years, the one he disliked the most were helicopters. He had never travelled in one that hadn't made him want to instantly lose his entire stomach contents within minutes, as all the pilots appeared to be maniacs. Their constant desire to turn and pitch at ridiculous speeds made him wish that inertial dampeners were fitted as standard on every single aircraft.

One thing he was grateful for was that Sheppard wasn't flying it, as he was certain that he would have lost all the sandwiches he had just eaten.

He glanced sideways towards his friend, and wasn't surprised to see that a small smile had appeared on his face. The man was a pilot after all.

As they drew nearer, the rotors began to spin faster and the noise got louder, causing Rodney to lean into the wind.

John was naturally the first to reach the side door and slid it open. He then stepped back to let everyone clamber in. Rodney was first, followed by Teyla and Ronan, and Daniel brought up the rear. Once they were all in, John leapt in after them and heaved the door closed.

"Hey guys!" a very familiar voice shouted from the cockpit, "I gather you need a lift…"

Rodney didn't need to see who it was to recognise the Southern drawl.

"Mitchell!" John made his way to the cockpit, and the two pilots greeted each other with a wide handshake. "Long time, no see."

Mitchell had yet to put on his headset, so John only had to shout loud enough to be heard above the loud sound of the engines.

"Yeah, well, I was in the neighbourhood…" Mitchell was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Rodney had seen these two pilots together a few years back, when SG1 had travelled to Atlantis in search for the ancient device, the Sangraal. They had appeared to have known each other, but circumstances had not provided much opportunity for Rodney to find out just how far back these two went.

John seemed to eye the cockpit appreciatively, and Mitchell noticed it, who grinned. "Sorry, man, but I'm flying this time."

John instantly looked disappointed, and Mitchell seemed to take pity on him.

"But that seat's not taken," he gestured towards the co-pilot's chair, and John nodded once before he looked back at the others.

"You guys ok?" he shouted.

Teyla, Ronon and Daniel all voiced that they were, and had all taken their seats and strapped themselves in. Rodney, however, felt the need to express his true feelings.

"Not really, no! Couldn't we just take the Jumper?!" he yelled. The noise from the engines was truly deafening.

"No!" John's reply was short and sharp, and Rodney wondered if it was the noise that made him respond like that, or whether he had already asked that question of the General, and that it had been declined.

"Just sit down, McKay!"

Rodney couldn't help but grumble to himself as he grabbed the headset from the hook above, and then squeezed himself in between Ronon and Daniel. Thankfully the ear pieces of the headset were tight enough to block out much of the thunderous noise, but it did nothing to ease the ever tightening feeling in his gut.

If he had known they were going to be flying all the way to San Francisco, he wouldn't have eaten all those damn sandwiches! He just prayed that Colonel Mitchell would be the first pilot NOT to feel the need to show off his flying skills.

But the mischievous look on the Colonel's face gave Rodney the strong impression that this wouldn't be the case.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney was right.

Colonel Cameron Mitchell was just as crazy as all the other helicopter pilots.

Although, Rodney was sure that having the legendary John Sheppard sat beside him wasn't helping matters, and that it was probably making the guy feel the need to prove something.

An hour into the extremely uncomfortable flight, and Mitchell had finally levelled out. Although, Rodney had a feeling that it wasn't because he had got out the need to fly like a maniac out of his system, but rather that the conversation he was having with Sheppard had sobered the atmosphere somewhat.

Their voices continued to come through Rodney's headphones, and he couldn't help but sigh.

The two Colonels had started out well: they even sounded rather light hearted as they discussed the latest spec changes to this particular helicopter, a Black Hawk UH-60.

It quickly became apparent that, usually the Hawk wouldn't have been able to fly the 963 miles from Colorado Springs to San Francisco, but with the extra fuel tanks and minimum equipment, it would do it just fine and in record time.

Rodney had begun to drift off at that point, allowing his mind to think of more interesting matters such as Wormhole Drives, ZPMs and Nanite Creation Devices, when the conversation suddenly turned more serious.

"So, Sheppard, you got any idea who might have taken your brother?"

Silence fell in Rodney's headset for a moment, as John hesitated, perhaps because he knew everyone was listening in, or maybe he just didn't feel like talking.

"Maybe," John replied, rather quietly, causing Rodney to press one earphone more firmly to his head. He wondered how far Mitchell was going to try to press this current line of questioning, as they had all tried and failed to get much response from John.

"So what would anyone want with your brother, anyway?" He clearly had chosen not to push Sheppard further, and had picked another line of inquiry. "Does he even have the ATA gene?"

"Yeah, he does." Again, John's voice was quiet.

"General Landry said that his transmitter…has also stopped working."

"It _was_ working perfectly up until six hours ago. But no, there's no trace of it now." John trailed off.

"You think we are gonna get a ransom demand anytime soon?"

"I don't think so, no."

It appeared that Mitchell seemed to know about the wealth of the Sheppard family. Rodney tried hard not to feel too disconcerted by that. After all, Mitchell probably knew John long before he did.

"O-kay." Mitchell's voice seemed to indicate that he had finally got the message that John was not comfortable with talking about his brother, and their conversation stopped.

Rodney had no idea what they would find at the Ranch, as John had not told them what he and General Landry had discussed. But Rodney clearly remembered the time when his sister, Jeannie, had been kidnapped by Henry Wallace, of Devlin Medical Technologies, a few years back. So he had a vague idea what they might expect.

He just hoped that John was prepared, and in more ways than one.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Oh boy…" Daniel's voice came over everyone's headset, as they drew closer to the Ranch.

Although they were still reasonably high, it was plain to see the entrance of the property was swarming with people and vehicles.

But not just any people, but TV crews and reporters, and the vehicles were police cars, keeping them from entering the estate.

"So, where's the best place to land?" asked Mitchell, as they began their descent.

"Three o'clock, beyond that barn," replied John, clearly gesturing to the area. "Don't want to scare the horses," he added.

"Roger that," and Rodney felt the helicopter lurch uncomfortably sideways, causing his stomach to twist yet again.

As the craft began its descent, everyone remained grimly silent as they looked out of their respective windows.

Clearly the sight and sound of helicopter approaching, and an Air Force one at that, had stirred up the people at the entrance. Some of the individuals were pointing their long zoom lens cameras towards them, while others were talking into fluffy microphones in front of their respective camera crews, gesturing towards the helicopter, as live footage was being recorded.

The moment they touched down, Rodney could see Mitchell pull a lever above him and the engines instantly shut off. He then watched as the Colonel looked over at John, who Rodney couldn't quite see.

"Hey, you ok?" As they were all still wearing their headsets, everyone could still hear them.

Silence.

"Shepp?"

"Yeah, I'm…fine."

Rodney heard movement, as John must have stood up. "Ok, let's get this over with."

He then emerged from the cockpit, and although John was now wearing his aviators, Rodney couldn't miss the tight lipped, steely expression of his friend.

They all began to get up, and remove the headsets, as John moved passed them towards the exit, grabbed the handle and yanked the sliding door open.

Despite the fact that they had been wearing the headphones during the entire flight, Rodney's ears were still ringing.

Although the engines were now off, the rotor blades were still turning, so they all had to hunch forward to avoid them. Once they were all out, they quickly made their way across the manicured lawns towards the house. All accept Colonel Mitchell, who stayed behind with the helicopter.

The place now felt very different to when they were there last. What had previously been a place of peace and tranquillity, now seemed like something straight out of CSI: Miami.

Rodney couldn't help but notice the ominous white head-to-toe outfits of the Scenes of Crime Officers, all meticulously scouring the undergrowth for clues.

For now it was the site of a crime scene. Long lengths of yellow tape cordoned off the various doors and windows around the house, flapping slightly in the breeze. The words, '**CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS'**, repeated over and over, just seemed to re-emphasise the gravity of the situation even further.

John strode up to the main entrance, where a couple of police officers stood guard, who instantly blocked his entry. "Sorry Sir. I'm afraid you can't go in there."

"I am Colonel John Sheppard, and _this_ is my brother's house, so stand aside." There was no mistaking the icy cold tone of command.

Even though John wore his sunglasses, the dark expression on his face caused both officers to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we're gonna need to see some ID…"

Not a smart move on the officer's part, thought Rodney, but then they had no idea who they were dealing with.

"That won't be necessary, Officer. Let Colonel Sheppard and the others in. Now."

Rodney immediately recognised the commanding voice of Lt. General Jack O'Neill.

The officers quickly moved aside, and without a second glance, John pulled up the tape, ducked underneath it in one easy move, and strode inside.

Rodney and the others were quick to follow him.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Sheppard," said General O'Neill, who stood waiting for them in the hallway.

"Sir."

"Daniel. Long time no see."

"Jack."

O'Neill nodded at the others, before he turned back to John. "Landry filled you in, I take it?"

"Yes Sir."

The place was a hive of activity; full of people, all moving about with urgent purpose. More white body suits of the forensic teams and crime scene officers. From what Rodney could hear over the various police radios, they didn't have much to go on.

Again, Rodney couldn't help but think back to when Jeannie had been taken. The local police were of little help then, and he didn't hold out much hope for them to be so now. In the end, it had been Sheppard that had once again come to their rescue…

At that moment, a couple of people bustled passed them, causing Rodney to step back. General O'Neill frowned, and then gestured towards a nearby room. It was also full of people.

"Ok, give us the room, guys," ordered O'Neill. The people duly filed out, and he shut the door firmly behind them.

Rodney instantly recognised the room that they now found themselves in. It was the one with the grand piano, and the two large paintings. He couldn't help but glance over at the beautiful image of John's mother.

"Ok," said O'Neill slowly as he looked at John. "Well, this is new."

John regarded him carefully. "For me, sir? Not so much."

O'Neill looked like he was going to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and instead wandered further into the room. The large paintings seemed to instantly attract his attention, and walked over towards them.

"My mother, Sir," offered John, as he went to join him.

O'Neill peered closer. "She looks Italian."

"She…was, Sir."

Rodney couldn't help but stare at her too. She truly had been a stunning woman. He could clearly see the strong Italian features, and the more he looked at her, the more he realised that John had inherited her complexion, dark hair as well as her defined cheekbones, dark eyes and chiselled chin. No wonder his friend was so popular with the ladies.

O'Neill then turned back to John, looking at him quizzically. "Ok, Sheppard, you mind telling me just how and why you came back so fast?"

John stared back at him for a moment, and then slowly removed his aviators that he had still been wearing. Rodney had been wondering whether John would have considered the issue of his intermittent 'glowing' eyes, and it appeared that he had thought of that too.

John took a deep breath and then replied flatly, "I…saw it."

O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "You _saw_ it? Saw what?"

"The moment Dave…was taken."

"O-Kay," replied O'Neill slowly. "Did you see _who_ took him?"

Rodney was rather taken aback by the General's immediate acceptance of John's statement. But then, he guessed that O'Neill's experience in all things Ancient meant that he was a lot more open to the possibility of Premonition.

John sighed heavily. "No, Sir."

O'Neill grimaced. "Shame."

John didn't reply.

"So, have you…_seen_ anything else?"

John's lips tightened. "No, Sir."

O'Neill looked pained for a moment, and then tipped his head on one side. "Say, how _did_ you get back so fast anyway?"

"The Wormhole Drive, Sir."

"I thought that was fried," retorted O'Neill.

"It was, Sir. I fixed it."

O'Neill looked impressed. "Sweet."

At that moment, the General's phone went off. He looked at the display. "Gotta take this," he said, as he pressed the 'answer' button. "O'Neill." He then went to stand over by the large bay window.

John sighed heavily, and shoved one hand in his pocket, as the other stroked his chin thoughtfully, as he stared at the floor and began to walk in a small circle.

Rodney glanced at Ronon and Teyla, who were both watching John intently. Daniel was merely watching O'Neill, who seemed to be receiving some update from someone or another, and he sounded rather irritated by the lack of progress.

John suddenly stopped in his tracks, and then turned slowly back towards the large painting of his mother. He then stood there, looking up at her, and the expression on his face made Rodney's chest tighten.

John's guard seemed to drop, and Rodney didn't think he had seen such open sorrow on his friend's face before. Well, accept for when he had been in the process of ascending and saying his last goodbyes.

"Sheppard?" Rodney spoke quietly as he glanced over at Teyla, who was also watching him intently. "You ok?"

But his friend seemed so lost in the moment, that he didn't reply.

Teyla silently made her way over to stand beside him and looked up at his face. "John?"

But still he didn't respond, and just kept staring up at the painting. She reached out and gently touched his arm. "John? What is wrong?"

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from his mother, and slowly looked down at her. But he didn't look as though he was actually looking _at_ her, rather that he was in some kind of trance, and that he was almost looking straight through her.

What was he doing? Rodney felt his heart skip a beat. Was John about to have a seizure?

"Hey, Sheppard. You ok?" O'Neill had finished his phone call, and he too had noticed the sudden change in John's demeanour.

John suddenly took a sharp intake of breath, almost as if he had been in pain, and began to rub his chest slowly. But before anyone could say anything further, John bolted for the door, yanked it open and shot out of the room.

"Sheppard!"

As they all rushed down the long corridor after him, Rodney had a suspicion as to where John was heading.

David's office.

"Get out!" John ordered loudly. "All of you, out, now!"

His command clearly struck home, as several people darted out of the room, causing Rodney and the others to move to one side of the corridor to let them passed.

As they entered David's office, the state of the room made Rodney's breath catch in his throat.

What he remembered had been a place of order, was now in complete and utter disorder. John had been right, the office was trashed. Was this what he had seen in his vision?

It hadn't been so much turned over, as though someone had been looking for something; it was more like a fight had taken place here, and a real frenzied one at that. Chairs were turned over, and books and papers lay strewn across the floor. Even the large mirror on the wall had not escaped, as large cracks revealed a rather large point of impact. It appeared that David Sheppard had not gone quietly.

Rodney looked warily over at John, who stood completely motionless in the centre of the room. He seemed to be staring at something on the floor.

As Rodney followed his line of sight, he saw what John was looking at. It was a large heavy looking brass table lamp, and its once beautiful coloured glass lampshade now lay completely shattered nearby.

As Rodney stared more closely at the base, which looked to be at least 8 inches wide, and he felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. There was blood on the edges, and dark stains surrounded it on the pale cream carpet, indicating more blood.

Was this the implement that John had seen his brother had been attacked with? Rodney remembered the extreme reaction John had made during the vision, almost as if he had literally felt the moment of impact himself. Rodney couldn't help but cringe inwardly.

John squatted down beside it. For a moment, he just stared at it, as though he was reluctant to touch it, so just continued to balance on his toes. He then took a deep steadying breath, and then slowly reached out and picked it up. But as soon as he did so, he took a jagged intake of breath, and instantly grimaced, and his head dropped down.

John's reaction only acted as confirmation that this must indeed have been the weapon, and that had to be David's blood.

A polite cough from behind them broke the silence, and Rodney looked over at a man who now stood in the open doorway.

The guy looked familiar, but as usual, Rodney couldn't for the life of him remember his name or where he had seen him before.

"Sorry, General," he said to O'Neill, but glanced at John as he spoke. "I was just advised that Colonel Sheppard had just arrived."

"Agent Barrett," replied O'Neill briefly. "What's the latest Sit Rep?"

Ah, yes, now Rodney remembered him: Agent Malcolm Barrett, of the NID. He had been the guy who had worked with them when Jeannie had been kidnapped.

Barrett looked back at John as he replied, who was still crouched down, completely focussed on the lamp in his hand and the blood stains on the floor.

"Well sir, no fingerprints have so far been found, but there are rather… a lot of surfaces to cover. So these…people were either Pros, or we just haven't found their point of entry yet. Currently, nothing seems to have been taken, but the employees of the house are still looking into that. The News Reporters are demanding an update, as usual…"

"Yeah, well," replied O'Neill dismissively, "Give them the usual spiel…"

"Yes, Sir," continued Barrett, still looking at the Colonel. "The SFPD are still combing the surrounding area, making house to house calls. But after four hours, we aren't feeling that optimistic that the culprit will still be in the area."

Rodney's gut tightened.

Four hours. David Sheppard had been taken around four hours ago, which was pretty much exactly the same time that John had had his vision. So, it appeared that John had actually experienced the very moment his brother had been attacked.

"There still has been no communication from any kidnappers," Agent Barrett continued, "so no ransom demand has been received, and no note has yet been found."

"And there won't _be_ any," said John, low and menacing, as he slowly stood up. He placed the lamp carefully onto the large oak desk, but as he did so, some of the blood came off onto his hand. He stared hard at it, turning his hand slightly, causing the colour to shift a little in the sunlight.

Barrett frowned. "Do you suspect anyone who might have taken him, Colonel?"

John looked up at him slowly. As John was no longer wearing his aviators, Rodney could clearly see the colour of his eyes had darkened, but luckily there was no trace of the mysterious blue energy. Yet.

John took a deep steadying breath. "Yeah," he replied slowly, sounding ominous. "I have a pretty good idea…."

Agent Barrett held out his hands. "Who?"

John was silent for a moment, and then looked meaningfully at O'Neill. Rodney noticed that his friend had begun to clench and unclench his fists.

"_Mister_ Carl Strom, Head of the IOA…"

**To be continued…**

**Post script:**

As usual, I made sure that a Black Hawk helicopter could actually make the 963 miles, although I have made the assumption that Colonel Mitchell could also fly one, as I found no reference as to whether he could or not. But he wanted in on the action, so what could I do?

Thanks to every single one of you that have left feedback. It's great to have you back with me for yet another wild journey.

As always, please keep your thoughts coming…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

Thanks for all your reviews and PMs. Please keep them coming!

As a big thank you, here's a longer chapter for you. So I hope you enjoy…

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 3**

The words of Colonel Sheppard hung menacingly in the air, like a Judge issuing a death sentence.

The room remained silent, and Jack could feel all eyes shift towards him, waiting for him to respond.

"I thought you said you didn't actually _see_ anyone."

The Colonel's eyes seemed to grow darker. "He _is_ behind this, Sir, I know it."

So, it was just a hunch then. Admittedly, it was from a guy who appeared to be able to 'see' things, but not of the actual perpetrator, it would seem.

Jack knew only too well that they would need more than just a gut feeling before they could take any action against the Head of the IOA. As much as he liked the idea of going in, grabbing the irritating SOB, and make him tell them where the hell David Sheppard was, he knew that he could neither condone it, nor could he authorise it.

They needed hard, irrefutable evidence.

It was at times like these that Jack really hated being 'the Guy'!

"Sorry, Sheppard, but I'm gonna need more than that."

The man scowled hard and then started to walk in a tight circle, staring at the floor as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Has anyone touched his computer?" McKay blurted out, as he started to look around the room for one.

"No," replied Barratt quickly, "not yet. The monitor was smashed and the CPU has been removed for further examination."

"There's another one in the Blue Room." John murmured offhand, but had not ceased his pacing.

"What?" McKay stared at his friend.

"They are all connected to a central network, Rodney."

"All?" McKay slapped his hands together, rubbing them furiously. "Ok, then. Lead the way."

Sheppard looked as though he was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and led them quickly out of the room.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

John shifted uncomfortably in the chair and stared at the monitor in front of him.

"C'mon, Sheppard, do you know the password or not?" Rodney stood impatiently at his side.

John glared sideways at him. "I just don't know what you are expecting to find." He sounded indignant.

"Hey," replied Rodney smoothly, "you can't stop the signal, John. Everything goes somewhere, and I go everywhere…"

John turned in his chair to look up at him incredulously, causing Rodney to squirm a little. "Look, you've seen the films, watched the TV shows. Everyone knows that whenever someone goes missing, the first place to look is on their computer."

John just continued to stare at him.

"It's worth a shot…." Rodney tried to put on his most humble expression.

John seemed to relent as he turned back to the keyboard. He hesitated for a moment, and then began to type. It worked, and the desktop appeared, in all its glory. They were in.

Rodney made a sound of surprised approval. "So, you make a habit of remembering peoples' passwords then?"

"Only the important ones, McKay," he retorted rather gruffly.

Rodney had no idea just how or why John would have known David's current password, but the computer was just begging to be interrogated.

He edged closer, and John stood up, allowing Rodney to quickly sit down, pulling the keyboard towards him as he did so. "Alright, let's see what's been going on in the world of David Sheppard…"

He paused, and glanced up at John, who was still standing beside him. "Er, this may take some time so, you know…"

John sighed and walked over to the others, and Rodney quickly got to work.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The moment they had left Rodney in the Blue Room, the sound of woman's voice suddenly cried out, and a rather plump lady rushed towards John.

"_Monsieur Jean, mon Dieu_!"

"_Marie. Vous allez bien_?" John moved quickly towards her, and she tightly grasped hold of his hands, and promptly started speaking rapidly in French.

Daniel watched as John tried to calm her down, responding almost effortlessly in French, but the woman was becoming almost hysterical, and John had to work hard to make himself heard.

From what she was saying, Daniel quickly understood why. She had been the one who had discovered that David was missing, and had found the blood on the floor.

Marie obviously worked for the Sheppard's, and from her apron, though Daniel hated to typecast anyone, she appeared to be their cook. But the familiarity between her and John made Daniel feel that she was more like his old nanny than just a cook.

John's dark mood instantly seemed to have been forgotten, so intent was he to placate her, and the gentler side of his character quickly came to the fore.

He managed to disentangle one of his hands, and led her into the kitchen, and to a nearby chair. Once he had convinced her to sit, he then squatted down in front of her, and took both of her hands in his own.

He spoke firmly but quietly to her, reassuring her that she wasn't to blame, that she wasn't to worry and that he was here now; he would find his brother, no matter the cost.

As he continued, John began to sound…different. Deeper, richer, as though his energies were somehow coming through his voice, yet there was no sign of the tell-tale blue in his eyes.

Whatever John was doing, it was certainly working, as slowly but surely Marie was becoming calmer.

"_Ok_?"

She nodded. "_Oui, merci, Jean_." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she had pulled from her pocket.

John squeezed her hand and smiled gently at her. "_Bon_," and then stood up.

Within seconds, Marie appeared to be back to her usual self, and Daniel couldn't help but smile, as she began to comment on how thin John still looked, and that she would instantly make everyone something to eat.

"I hope you guys are hungry…" murmured John, smiling a little.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney was seriously impressed.

Everything was neatly filed, categorised and labelled, which was making it all so much easier.

John had been right; the pc was linked to a central network. A state of the art firewall was in place, the anti virus software was up to date, and everything appeared to be in perfect working order.

Once he had established that, Rodney then began to meticulously work his way through the Personal folders. Photographs, home movies, letters: all dated and in order. Though Rodney wanted to look at a few, he resisted the temptation and moved quickly onto David's emails.

Most of them were work related, several from a woman named Rachel, and a whole bunch from various companies. After reading a few, he quickly concluded that there wasn't anything suspicious there either.

Calendar dates, meeting requests, contacts. Nope, still nothing.

Business folders were next. They ranged from letters and legal documents to memos.

The Financial reports proved to be an interesting folder, and some of the figures had Rodney reeling slightly. It wasn't often you saw so many zeros grouped together. But he tried to remain focussed, and concluded that there wasn't anything that would indicate foul play in any of the transactions either.

He leant back in the chair, fingertips touching, his two index fingers tapping together as he considered the screen before him.

He could find absolutely no trace of anything suspicious, dodgy or even remotely threatening anywhere. At least, not at the 'user end' of the system anyway.

But something was telling him not to stop searching.

So, it was time to dig a little deeper. Time to start looking at the programming code, and this was what he truly excelled at.

He vigorously rubbed his hands together once again, flexed his fingers and then placed his fingers back onto the keyboard.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

While Marie began to 'create' some food in the kitchen, they had retired to a room that John referred to as 'The Snug'.

Daniel could understand why. Less formal, it felt considerably different to the other rooms they had been in. The dark panelling of the walls, deep leather sofas and bronze statues of horses, gave the strong impression that it was more frequented than the others. In fact, it actually reminded him of a Gentleman's Smoking Lounge.

Agent Barrett had left the group to get an update from the SFPD officers, though Daniel had a feeling that they wouldn't find anything. This had been no normal abduction, and if John was right about Strom being involved, the method of David's extraction would not have been…of this world.

He glanced over to John, who was in the process of pouring a few drinks at the bar, filling the glasses with 'on tap' fizzy drinks. After placing a few ice chips from a nearby tub into each one, he began to hand them out.

He began to hand one to Jack, who looked at the offered glass, and then back at John. "You got a cold beer behind there, Sheppard?"

John gave him a small smile. "Yes Sir."

He handed the glass to Daniel and promptly moved back round to the other side of the bar.

"Er…Sir?" came the hesitant voice of Mitchell, who clearly wanted one too.

"Make that two," said Jack, holding up two fingers.

Ronon coughed meaningfully, and John's smile widened. He then produced three iced cold beers, broke the top off each one and placed them on the counter. John then reached for a rather elegant decanter on the side, and poured himself a rather a large shot.

Clearly, Daniel had been wrong. It was time for alcohol, and who could blame them?

He glanced back at the others. Teyla had taken a seat on one of the large sofas, sipping at her soda. Ronon had taken his beer and sat down beside her. Jack was now sat on one of the bar stools, leaning against the bar, as was Mitchell. Rodney was still in the Blue Room, doing his thing.

John had already shut the door, so it was just them, and they could talk freely.

It was time to get some answers, so Daniel went to lean against the bar.

"John, can I ask you something?"

He looked back at him as he took a sip from his glass. "Sure."

"Can you…tell me about…your vision?"

John sighed heavily and looked down at the content of his glass. For a moment Daniel wasn't sure that he was going to answer.

"It came on so fast," John began quietly, "at first it felt kinda like an out of body experience, like I was floating." He took a sip from his glass before he continued.

"Just like the others…I couldn't see. But I could…feel them. Smell them. Then it started… to hurt." He grimaced slightly at the recollection.

Daniel frowned. Others? So it appeared that John had experienced more than one vision, and that his suspicions were correct: John's powers were continuing to cause him pain. Where the hell was Benedict when all this had been happening?

John rubbed his forehead. His voice was now devoid of all emotion, and sounded completely flat and detached. "It wasn't long after that I felt the blow to the head. I heard a voice cry out, but it wasn't mine. It was Dave's."

Daniel suddenly shivered, as though someone had just walked over his grave_. _

John grimaced, and promptly drained the entire contents of his glass in one large gulp.

Daniel looked over at Teyla, who looked deeply disturbed, indicating that she clearly had not managed to extract this level of information from John before now.

"Daniel?" Jack, as usual, was expecting him to come up with the answers.

Daniel looked back at John before he answered. "Well, of all the Seers I've met or read about, none actually spoke of experiencing a physical connection to the visions that they saw. So, at this point, I would say that John's abilities may be…completely unique to him."

"So, what you're saying is," retorted Jack slowly, "that this might be something that Janus has left to his…Heir, rather than one of his…ascended powers?"

Daniel sighed. "I don't know, Jack. Maybe, may be not. Perhaps it's a mixture of the two."

They all looked at John, who was now looking at the bottom of his now empty glass.

"Ok then," Jack's voice had lightened. "So, what we got so far?" Unfortunately he was still looking straight at Daniel.

"Well," replied Daniel slowly, wishing it didn't always fall to him to do this, "I guess you first have to look for a motive."

"Money," said Jack, looking around the room as he did so.

Daniel shook his head. "I doubt it."

"Why?"

"Well, the complete lack of communication from his abductors for one thing. If this was just about money, I would have thought that we would have received some demand by now. No, the timing is just too much of a coincidence for it to be that."

His words hung heavily in the air, as everyone knew just what he was referring to: the discovery of John's 'heritage'.

Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he continued. "No, this had been timed specifically to abduct him the moment John was completely out of the picture, thereby leaving David completely vulnerable."

He instantly regretted saying that, as John noticeably winced.

"Hey," Jack retorted defensively, "he wasn't completely unprotected. We were tracking him every six hours."

"I know, Jack, but for all intense and purposes, he was exposed."

"He completely refused to have any bodyguards," Jack added, "or to 24/7 surveillance, so there wasn't much else we could do."

Daniel felt for his friend, as he knew he was feeling almost as guilty as John did.

He pushed on quickly. "So it must have been someone pretty well connected to have known that John had left. But why take David in the first place?"

"To get back at me…" murmured John quietly.

Everyone had seen that Strom had clearly been antagonistic towards John from the moment the President had ordered them to move Atlantis to Area 51, and that hatred had just heightened when he had found out about the Colonel's new position and abilities.

Daniel frowned. "If that was the case, John, why wait until you are no longer around? Surely it would make more sense to take him while you are still here."

"He has the ATA gene, right?" offered Mitchell.

"Yeah," replied Daniel, "but only a few people actually knew the results of the tests. Yes?" He looked straight at Jack for confirmation, who nodded.

"So what would someone want with a guy, who has almost the strongest ATA gene on the planet?"

When Daniel put it like that, it was all so obvious.

"Someone who has a piece of Ancient tech they can't operate?" Mitchell offered again helpfully.

"So who would have access to such technology?" Daniel once again looked to Jack for the answer.

"Not many, that's for sure. Well, not _legally_ anyhow," Jack added, frowning.

"Someone highly connected, that's for sure," Mitchell added.

John rubbed his forehead again. "It's Strom." He sounded so resolute, so confident, that Daniel couldn't help but believe him.

Strom would certainly fit the MO. He had both motive and method.

"But would the Head of the IOA risk doing something so blatantly obvious, especially after the President had so clearly given his approval?" Daniel already knew the answer, but had to voice it anyway.

"Hell yes!" John retorted sharply, "If the man believed that the end justified the means."

The room fell silent.

John pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing, as though he had a headache coming on.

Daniel stared at him. "John?" The sound of concern crept into his voice. Were his energies causing him pain once again? "You ok?"

Everyone looked at him, and John immediately dropped his hand and shifted his stance. "Yeah."

"You sure?" Daniel almost expected that he was about to give his usual retort of feeling fine, but he didn't.

"Just a headache."

Somehow Daniel didn't quite believe him. "You said it hurt…just before the vision took place?"

John gave him a rather dark look. "Yes."

"And…you are in pain now?

"It's just a headache," John repeated, but somewhat harder than before.

Everyone knew what that meant. So was he about to have another vision?

"John?" Teyla slowly rose to her feet and made her way towards him.

"I'm fine," he said, through slightly gritted teeth, but Teyla did not appear to be put off by it.

"Why did you not say something before now?"

He stared back at her. "Because it doesn't matter." His tone then went from dismissive and bitter, to sharp and acerbic. "It. Is. Just. A. Headache."

"Of course it matters, John." Teyla's voice was firm and determined. "And not just to me, but that of your friends as well."

"Look, don't you get it? All that matters right now is finding my brother, not whether I have a damn headache or not!"

The sudden aggression in his voice took everyone by surprise, and even Teyla took a small step back.

"Sheppard," Jack stepped in, his tone once more of command. "Take it down, son. We understand…"

"Do you? _Really_?" John interrupted sarcastically.

Jack raised an eyebrow, and then very deliberately placed his beer bottle down on the bar. He then looked hard at John, as he spoke very deliberately.

"You had a vision of your brother being taken. You come back to find he's gone. All you can see is that it's your fault for not having taken those 'dreams' more seriously, as you think you could have saved him. But you didn't. You think you know who it is, but you can't be sure. All that matters now is finding him, no matter what it costs. That about _sum_ it up for ya?"

For a moment, John seemed to struggle internally, as he stared back at Jack, before he lowered his eyes and sank against the bar.

"I've said it before, Sheppard, and I'll say it again. You aren't alone in this. So quit acting like you are. Got it?"

John didn't look up at his Commanding officer as he replied. "Yes Sir." He now sounded contrite and somewhat ashamed.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Well, these are almost as good as my grandma's Macaroons," crowed Colonel Mitchell, as he sat munching appreciatively through yet another one of Marie's home made Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Despite John's earlier outburst, the atmosphere seemed to have eased a little the moment Marie had called them through to the kitchen. True to her word, she had indeed provided more than enough food for everyone, which now covered the large table.

Rodney was still in the Blue Room, but Teyla had made sure to take him a plate. Although he had merely grunted at her; so intently focused was he in his work.

Naturally Ronon was working his way around each plate, testing more Earth food, and by the look on his face, he seemed to approve. Teyla couldn't help but smile a little as he began to pile his plate high yet again.

General O'Neill was still in 'The Snug', talking on his phone. But, as she was quickly coming to realise that he was as keen on food as her two friends were, she was sure that the smell of cooking would bring him through soon enough.

Daniel stood leaning against the breakfast bar, chatting easily to Marie in French, as she continued to make something in a pan on the stove. But Teyla couldn't help notice that he would occasionally glance in John's direction.

John.

Although his dark mood seemed to have lifted somewhat, Teyla could feel little comfort by it.

He sat next to Colonel Mitchell at the table, but hadn't touched any of the food, and made the odd noise to suggest that he was listening to the Colonel. But Teyla knew for a fact that he wasn't.

His left leg bounced up and down rapidly, while his hands fidgeted in his lap, and his frown was forever present: all signs of his restlessness.

Although he had not looked at her since his outburst, Teyla could see no sign of the blue energy in his eyes. But that he was still in some discomfort was clearly evident, as he intermittently rubbed at his forehead.

He was putting on a front, for the benefit of Marie perhaps, or just to keep them all at a distance.

That she could understand.

What she couldn't accept was the way that he had spoken to her, and it had shaken her more deeply than she cared to admit.

Their morning had started so beautifully. Waking up in the arms of the man she loved, their day had begun with so much hope and expectation, as they were soon to arrive at the 'Place of our Legacy'. The place that John had 'shown' to her, through his magical energy, like a vision….

Then, everything had changed. As though all that had been the dream, and she had just awoken to yet another nightmare reality.

John was now so completely focussed, that it was almost as though he looked straight through her.

She tried to reason with herself that he was merely trying to come to terms with everything, and that, given enough time, he would talk to her.

She understood that, but he had also given her his word.

But it appeared that it was a promise that he seemed unable to keep. He was completely shutting her out, and it was more than she could bear.

Teyla's vision blurred as her emotions began to get the better of her, and she breathed deeply, struggling to maintain control. But her pain was so great that her tears were so close to falling.

She would not let the others see the depth of her pain, least of all John. She would not be a burden to him. Ever.

So, without looking at the others, she silently moved towards the sliding door in the kitchen, pulled it open and slipped outside.

The day was beginning to draw in, and the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grounds. But there was still some warmth left in the day, and it felt good to feel the gentle breeze against her skin.

She could hear the sound of distant voices, and she looked towards them. Sure enough the crowds of people were still waiting at the entrance to the property, hovering for news. Luckily the trees and hedges that surrounded the grounds acted as a natural barrier from prying eyes.

Teyla wandered over to the large swimming pool, and knelt down to run her hand through the water, causing it to glisten and sparkle in the light. It was quite warm, obviously having caught the heat from the day.

As the ripples begin to settle, she looked down at her reflection staring back at her. She did indeed look as wretched as she felt. Teyla took several deep breaths, and her self control slowly began to return, although one small tear escaped and slid down her cheek.

"Teyla?"

Her heart skipped a beat and she froze.

She didn't trust her voice to respond, so merely remained where she was; looking down at the now still waters of the pool. Within moments his shimmering reflection appeared above her.

"Teyla?" His voice was soft, tender. "You ok?"

She prayed that her voice would hold strong. "I am fine."

He then squatted down beside her, and leant forward to try and peer around her hair to see her face, but she quickly turned away from him.

"Teyla?" He now sounded worried. "What's wrong?"

She refused to be a burden. "I am fine," she repeated, a little more firmly this time.

He sighed heavily. "No. You aren't."

She remained silent, and continued to stare out across the grounds towards the stables beyond.

She heard him sit down beside her, and she could almost feel the frown on his face.

"Talk to me." His tone was gentle but persistent.

She bit her lip a little, trying desperately to think of something safe to say. "Marie seems a good cook…" she winced, knowing how ridiculous that sounded, and that it would not divert him in the slightest.

"Teyla. Please."

His voice sounded so tender, so pleading, that it made her heart ache, and yet another rebellious tear fell. She bit her lip hard, struggling again for control.

"Teyla, whatever has you speechless, has me concerned."

"It is…nothing." Once more she tried to sound dismissive, but her voice betrayed her.

John reached around to gently take hold of her chin, and turned her face towards him. Still she refused to look at him.

His breath caught slightly. "It isn't _nothing_, if it makes you cry…" he murmured, as he gently wiped the tear away with his thumb.

Such a tiny act, but so reminiscent of the time he had whispered those beautiful words, declaring his love for her, which now proved to be her undoing. Another tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

John sighed, and wiped that away too. "Teyla."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney stopped, and rubbed hard at his eyes, that now felt sore and dry. He usually forgot to blink enough whenever he stared at a screen for too long.

He had no idea what time it was, but the sunshine was no longer beaming through the window, and it felt like he had been at this for hours.

He still couldn't find a thing out of place. It was all so incredibly frustrating!

So maybe he was wrong. Maybe there actually wasn't anything to find. After all, not every bad guy uses a computer…

But something was telling him not to give up: Just another line, just another section….

He sighed. "Ok. Just a bit longer." He sat up straighter in his chair and resumed the search.

It was not even five minutes before he saw it.

No wonder it had been missed. It was so subtly hidden; like a shadow, an echo, a footprint in the sand…. you had to be a genius to see it.

_Ha! Guilty as charged_, he thought to himself smugly.

He instantly leant closer to the screen and stared hard.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me…." Rodney's eyes suddenly grew a little wider.

He then instantly shot out of his chair and rushed out of the room. "General O'Neill!" he yelled.

After failing to get an instant response, he quickly headed for the nearest officer he could find. "Hey, you seen the General? "

The officer helpfully pointed in the direction of the kitchen. Without even thanking the guy, he strode quickly into the room.

The smell of frying bacon threw him completely for a second, as his taste buds quickly kicked in, but the importance of his findings were far stronger than even his desire for food.

"General, I've found something…"

O'Neill stopped in mid chew and slowly lowered his plate onto the table. "Ok, McKay, what you got?"

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Please don't cry." John's voice was barely a whisper, and Teyla instantly closed her eyes, hoping that no more tears would fall.

His sigh was heartfelt. "I…I'm so sorry, Teyla."

He sounded so despondent that she couldn't help but look back at him. But he had turned away, leaning his elbow on his raised knee, and resting his head in his hand.

"For what?" though she already knew the answer, she needed to hear him say the words.

He grimaced and rubbed his head hard. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. My behaviour was…inexcusable."

Teyla could not deny that, but didn't reply.

"I was rude and I…" He hesitated, obviously searching for the right words. "I broke my promise."

He reluctantly lifted his head, and stared straight into her eyes. Once more she was struck by just how beautiful his eyes truly were, and how much pain they now showed.

She immediately felt guilty, as she had not wanted to burden him with her insecurities, and she had done just that.

She reached up to stroke his cheek tenderly. "I understand, John, truly I do... "

She hesitated, unsure of how to express her feelings without making him feel worse.

"There's still no excuse. I let you down." He looked away, breaking the connection of her touch. "Just as I have let my brother down." He now sounded bitter and angry.

"You are not to blame, John," she replied firmly.

He looked back at her sharply. "You sure about that? I should have known that there was more to the dreams than just…paranoia."

Teyla could not allow him to continue to feel this way, and grabbed both of his hands tightly, forcing him to look back at her. "How were you to know that one of your gifts was that of Foresight and Premonition?"

John looked away. "I will try not to let you down again, Teyla, I…"

Teyla knew that he was about to promise, but had stopped himself short.

She shifted closer, and just as he had done to her, she reached out and turned his face back to look at her again.

"We will find David, and bring him home." He went to look away, and she moved her head to follow his. "Together."

His eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion, and he reached out to take her hand in his, holding it tightly, like a lifeline. "Together," he echoed quietly.

He tried to give her the tiniest of smiles and she smiled tenderly back at him. She bowed her head, and sure enough, within moments she felt his touch her own. She closed her eyes and sighed. Their connection was re-established once more.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John raised his head quickly and turned around, and Teyla instantly sat up. An officer stood there, looking decidedly awkward.

"Yes?" John's voice was once more formal.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but General O'Neill wishes for you to join him in the kitchen, immediately."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"You are sure about this McKay?" Jack demanded, staring at him.

"Hey, who do you think you are talking to here?" Rodney retorted incredulously.

But before Jack could reply, John and Teyla entered through the sliding door.

Clearly having just heard the last part of the conversation, John looked straight at his friend. "Rodney?"

Daniel knew that Rodney McKay had always had a tendency for the dramatic, and this moment was no different. But his deliberate pause only resulted in him receiving a hard look from John.

"Spyware."

"Say what now?" John looked completely thrown.

"Surely you must have heard of Spyware?" Rodney actually sounded rather condescending.

"Of course I've heard of Spyware, Rodney," replied John, rather patiently, "I'm just surprised that you managed to find some. Dave is usually so tight on all electronic security."

"Yeah, I can see that." Rodney began to build up speed as he continued. "But this? This is _not_ your average Spyware. This is state of the art coding, and I doubt very much that it would even get picked up by even the best anti virus software. Your average user certainly wouldn't have noticed the slightest difference in system response." Rodney actually sounded rather smug.

"I get it, Rodney, only a genius would have been able to detect it." John suddenly sounded tired, and pinched the bridge of his nose, which indicated that his headache was still present. "So, you got any ideas how it got there?"

"Well, that's the beauty of the software. This type of program is often installed after the user accepts installation of a fake update to commonly used software. Once downloaded, the code will instantly install the malware and begin to monitor the entire system."

"What exactly is it monitoring?" asked John, instantly suspicious.

"Oh, the usual:, times, dates places of meetings, contact numbers…usually I wouldn't have picked it up, but a rather large data burst was recorded, as if someone was trying to download a ridiculous amount of information all at once.

So I have a feeling that…."

John drew a sudden intake of breath, and rubbed his forehead again. "Each machine is networked, so does that mean….?"

Rodney grimaced, "Possibly…well, probably. It's hard to say without having full access…."

"What are you people _talking_ about?" Jack interrupted, clearly not understanding their half finished sentences.

"The PSI servers may also have been infected." John replied grimly, his frown deepening.

"Well, that doesn't sound good," Jack now sounded like his usual sarcastic self.

"No, it's not." John continued to look at his friend. "We need to know for sure, Rodney. Can you do it from here?"

"Not easily, no. It would be far quicker if I was sat at the control console at PSI. I wouldn't have to try and bypass the firewall, which of course I could do, it would just…"

"Ok," John interrupted quickly, "I can arrange that." He then looked over at Jack for approval. "Sir?"

Jack turned to Rodney. "Can you do this?"

Rodney thought better than to give him his usual response. "Yes."

John looked menacingly back at Jack. "If this leads to Strom, Sir…."

"Yes, we will have more than enough evidence."

A rather sinister smile began to appear on John's face. "Ok then. Let me make a call."

Jack quickly checked his watch. "It's gone 1900hrs. Is there anyone likely to be there?"

John snorted. "Oh yeah." He instantly grabbed a phone off the kitchen sideboard and hit one of the pre-set numbers.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The room had fallen silent as everyone watched John wait, rather impatiently, for his call to be answered.

"C'mon, James," he growled, as he began to pace, "answer the damn phone."

Teyla slowly poured some freshly brewed coffee into a mug, and took it over to him, who instantly stopped his pacing and looked up at her.

His grim expression eased slightly as he gave her a small smile of thanks. Just as he took his first drink, it appeared that his call was finally answered, and he swallowed quickly.

"James? John Sheppard. Yeah, it has been a long time. I…" his expression darkened. "Yeah. I'm here now. Thanks. Yeah, as a matter of fact there is. I'm gonna need access to PSI servers…Tonight, well, now actually. No, it can't wait. No, I'm afraid I can't tell you why."

John sighed heavily. "Yes, I realise that, James. No. I'm very well aware of that. Just wait a second. Look,if I could tell you, I would, but it's classified."

The conversation now seemed to be taking a sour turn, as John quickly slammed his mug down hard on a nearby table, causing most of the contents to slop over the side. "Seriously, James, don't push it. Alright, so this is how you want to do this? Fine."

His voice now hardened, full of command and authority. "As a major shareholder, _and_ co-owner of the company, you cannot, and will not, refuse me access. I was phoning you out of common courtesy, not to ask for your damn permission."

With that he hung up the phone and slammed it back into its charger.

"Problems?" asked Jack lightly.

John turned back to them. "The Vice President and I…well, let's just say we have history, and never could quite see eye to eye on…quite a few things, actually."

"So, has he refused you access then?" Daniel couldn't help but ask.

"I'd like to see him try." John's voice was menacing.

Daniel didn't think for one moment that John was referring to the fact that he co-owned the company.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Within fifteen minutes of John's phone call, Daniel now found himself in a rather impressive stretch limo. Together with John, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Mitchell, they were heading towards PSI Headquarters, in the heart of San Francisco's bustling city centre.

Jack remained behind at the house, just in case word came in about David, or further backup was required.

They were all wearing ear comms but were not carrying weapons, although, looking at Ronon and Teyla, Daniel wouldn't put it past either of them to have a knife hidden somewhere.

John sat opposite him, and Teyla sat closely at his side, with Rodney sat on the other side of her. Ronon and Mitchell sat opposite them. Luckily, Mitchell had thought to wear some jeans and a t-shirt under his flight suit, so he wouldn't stand out.

"So whereabouts is the server located then?" asked Rodney, shifting slightly in his seat.

"2nd floor," replied John bluntly.

"When was the last time you were actually at PSI?" Daniel asked carefully.

"Oh, its been a while. I used to hate the place and everything it stood for."

"Really?" asked Rodney, clearly not understanding the reason. "And now?"

"Now, not so much." John's voice had grown quieter, and he stared out of the window.

The sun had almost set, and the passing street lights sent what little light through the blacked out windows, casting fleeting glimpses of John's grim expression.

Luckily the journey was a reasonably quick one, and before they knew it, the car began to slow and finally pulled up.

Daniel leant forward and peered out of the window. As his eyes slowly travelled up, he couldn't help but let out a slow long whistle. But before he could say anything, the door was suddenly opened by the chauffeur, and John got out.

Once Daniel was outside, the building was even more impressive.

It appeared to be at least 200 feet high, so roughly twenty stories tall, and almost completely made of glass. Although Daniel could clearly see that there were many lights still on in the building, the glass appeared dark, and with the daylight now gone, the windows reflected the street lamps as well as the stars. The building actually rose so high into the sky, that the effect was almost magical: as though it was reaching up to the very gods themselves, and the stars were coming down to greet them.

"Daniel? You coming?" John's voice broke him from his strange reverie, and he jogged after them.

Several glass doors made up the entrance of the building, so Daniel could clearly see two rather burly security guards making their way towards them.

"Can I help you?" asked one of them, rather brusquely.

"Yes, as a matter of fact you can," replied John politely. "You can start by opening the door."

"And why would we do that…Sir?" asked the other, rather suspiciously.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I part own the company?" replied John crisply.

One of the guards frowned and peered more closely at him. "You aren't David Sheppard."

John gave them one of his smiles. "You're right, I'm not. I'm John Sheppard, his brother."

The security guards looked at one another. "Isn't he the …" one of them began, but John interrupted them.

"_Colonel_ Sheppard, of the United States Air Force, yes, that'll be me."

"Sorry Sir, but we're gonna need to see some form of identification first."

John sighed and reached quickly into his jacket pocket. But he had moved so quickly, that it had made both men instantly reach for their guns.

"Easy boys, easy." John held out one hand in a calming gesture, as he slowly produced his wallet with the other. Flipping it open, he held it up for them to see his Air Force ID, and both men instantly looked rather sheepish.

"Sorry, Colonel," said one of them, as the other began to quickly unlock the doors. "You can't be too careful these days, Sir."

John gave them an approving nod. "Just doing your jobs, boys, I understand."

Once they had finally unlocked the doors, they held one open. John hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath and then walked inside.

If Daniel had thought that building was impressive on the outside, the interior was something else.

Two large mature oak trees, lit up by spotlights around each trunk, appeared to be growing in the foyer. It was almost as though the entire building had been built up around them. Six elevators, also made of glass, ran up the entire height of the building, and several escalators criss-crossed up like something out of Harry Potter.

This place was massive.

"John Sheppard!"

An angry voice echoed loudly, and instantly pulled Daniel's attention back to the moment.

A rather sophisticated looking man was quickly striding towards them, and he didn't look very happy.

"Damn it." John's demeanour instantly changed. "Stay here," he ordered, and moved purposefully towards the Vice President of PSI.

"Oh boy…" uttered Daniel quietly, and held his breath.

**To be continued…**

**Post script:**

I based the PSI building on a place I used to work at, many years ago: Merrill Lynch, 25 Ropemaker Place, London. And yes, it really did have trees in the foyer!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yet another long chapter for you!

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 4**

The sound of John's boots on the shiny marble floor echoed loudly as he made his way towards the Vice President.

As Daniel watched, John's physical presence seemed to change the closer he got to him: he stood taller, prouder, almost as if he was assuming a different persona.

Daniel had no idea what effect this would have on John's energies, or how he was feeling: apart from a headache, the man was once again a closed book. But he could only imagine that it couldn't be good: for either John, or for the Vice President.

This used to be John's domain; the life that he had not chosen. Yet circumstances were forcing him to step back into that life he had left behind, so long ago.

"I said no, John!" James Coalfield growled angrily.

"And I told you that I didn't need your permission,"John replied, as he came to a stop in front of him. Although his voice sounded light, with its usual sing-song tone, the underlying threat could clearly be heard.

"You may technically still own part own the company, John, but that does _not_ give you the right to just waltz in here, without so much as a by your leave, and do whatever the hell you like."

"Doesn't it?" John replied, rather flippantly.

Daniel could only see John's back, but he guessed that his energies weren't showing, and he could clearly see Coalfield, who just continued to look angrily at John.

A moment of tense silence followed.

"So, what exactly are you hoping to find on the servers?" Coalfield demanded firmly, though he seemed to have relented a little.

"Sorry, James, but I can't tell you that."

Coalfield crossed his arms and continued to glare at him. "Well, isn't that just so typical? More secrets…

"It's what I do, remember?"

"Oh, yes, I remember, John, only too well."

John shifted his stance, and sighed heavily as he pushed both hands into his pockets. "Look. All I want is access to the servers. Why is that such a problem for you?"

He then tilted his head on one side, considering him carefully. "Unless, of course, there is something you don't want me to find…"

Coalfield looked instantly startled and recoiled his head, frowning. "What the devil are you insinuating? Of course there isn't!"

"You sure about that?"

"You have some audacity questioning _my_ loyalty!" Coalfield spluttered.

"James…" Clearly sensing that the Vice President was about to launch into some sort of tirade about their past, John tried to head him off.

Unfortunately, Coalfield wasn't about to be waylaid. "No, if you have something to say, just come out and say it!"

John was silent for a moment, but when he spoke his voice had a deeper, darker edge to it. "All I want is access to the servers."

"Not until you tell me why."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"Well, I can't give you access to the servers then."

John snorted and began to move past him, but Coalfield grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I said no!"

John instantly froze.

Everyone held their breath, except Ronon, who took a step towards them.

"Give him a moment," Daniel said quietly.

Ronon growled deeply but remained where he was.

John very deliberately looked down at the hand on his arm, and then slowly up to his face. "Take…your hand…off me….Now."

But Coalfield's grip remained firm, as did his stare.

"You don't want to push me, James…"

"Are you threatening me?"

For a moment, they just stared at each other, in a silent battle of wills.

"Alright, James," John stayed ominously still. "You now have two choices. Option one, you allow me and my team to go to the Server room, unhindered, and you get to go home."

James began to reply, but John quickly spoke again.

"Or two…I have you arrested for the obstruction of justice, and you spend the night in a cell."

"What? You can't do that!"

"You care to put that to the test?"

"I thought the years might have changed you for the better, John, but clearly you haven't. You are still as arrogant as you have always been."

"Oh, I've changed. You just haven't seen how much…yet."

Coalfield stared at him for a moment, utterly speechless, and Daniel wondered if John's eyes had revealed his biggest secret, or whether it was just his dark expression that Daniel could only imagine was facing the Vice President right now.

Whatever the reason, Coalfield removed his grip on John's arm.

Then, without looking back, John called out to them. "C'mon guys," and began to walk, once again, past the Vice President.

They didn't need to be told twice, and quickly rushed to catch up with John, as he made his way towards the elevators.

Luckily, it was large enough to hold them all.

"John, wait!" Coalfield bolted after them. Just as he was about to enter, John quickly moved to block the doorway.

"Not a chance." Then, without breaking eye contact, John selected the 2nd floor button.

"You can't do this, John!"

A rather sinister smile appeared on John's face, just as the doors began to close. "Watch me."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Ok," John turned to face them, as the elevator began to move. "That went well."

"Ya think?" Rodney's voice always did have a habit of going up an octave whenever he was in a stressful situation.

"Oh yeah."

"Looks like you guys have got some history," stated Mitchell dryly.

Rodney couldn't help but roll his eyes. Talk about stating the obvious!

"Yeah, you could say that," John replied, rather mysteriously.

"He's an idiot," added Ronon gruffly.

John smirked. "You said it, Chewie."

The subtle chime shortly preceded the gentle stop of the elevator, indicating their quick arrival at the 2nd floor.

Once they were in the corridor, there was not much to indicate just what this level was used for. Closed door after closed door meant that Rodney could see nothing but grey carpet, and the odd pot plant, which broke up endless stretch of white walls.

This place was massive, and just when Rodney was wondering if they were ever going to reach the Server room, they turned yet another corner and came to a set of double doors. There wasn't a key hole, but a swipe card reader, which made Rodney sigh quietly.

Yet another room he would have to try and break into. But, before he had a chance to say anything, John pulled down a hidden panel beneath it, revealing a number pad. He hesitated for a second, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully, and then began to tap in a sequence of numbers.

A heavy clunk confirmed that John had yet again remembered a correct entry code.

As soon as he entered the room, Rodney felt the instant coolness of the air conditioning systems. "Nice!" he uttered appreciatively, as he stood taking in the room for a moment. Floor to ceiling racks of servers almost filled the room.

Rodney had forgotten to ask just what PSI did, so couldn't begin to hazard a guess as to why they would need this amount of data storage.

"C'mon, Rodney, it's this way," said John, as he headed down one of the isles. Rodney quickly headed after him, as did the others. All except for Ronon, who remained by the door, just in case James Coalfield decided that he would rather check out the insides of a cell.

John headed for a desk on the far side of the room, where two computers sat on a desk. Both were displaying login screens.

John pulled out one of the stools, sat down, and instantly began typing yet another set of access codes.

'_**Password accepted' **_flashed up on the screen, and they were in.

Rodney couldn't help but speculate just how John was getting past every single password and lock. He had said that he hadn't been here for years, so how was he able to remember them? Surely they couldn't be the same ones from years ago.

"Ok, Rodney," said John, as he vacated the chair. "Do your thing."

"Er, yeah, right," Rodney instantly sat down, but looked back up at him.

John smiled at him. "I know, Rodney, this could take some time."

Rodney grinned. "Not now I know what I'm looking for. Ten minutes, tops."

He then quickly turned around and set to work.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"So, Shepp," Mitchell said, as he leant against one of the servers, with one foot crossed casually over the other. "What's the deal with you and the VP?"

John looked at the floor. "Long story."

They had moved away from Rodney so as not to distract him, but they remained close enough, just in case.

Mitchell folded his arms and glanced in Rodney's direction. "Well, it looks like we got some time."

John began to rub his forehead hard.

"Headache still bothering you?" asked Daniel carefully, as John's earlier outburst was still fresh in his mind.

But the look John gave him was not aggressive in any way. In fact, he actually looked rather contrite. "Yeah."

"Perhaps it is merely lack of sleep, John," Teyla offered softly, who stood beside him.

He looked down at her, but then looked quickly away. "Yeah, maybe."

A slight frown appeared on Teyla's face. She was not the only one who did not truly believe that.

"Didn't you take some painkillers earlier?" asked Mitchell.

John grunted. "Not working." He pinched at the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and grunted slightly as he did so.

"Sheppard! I got it!" Rodney's voice called out, and John's eyes instantly flew open, removed his hand and moved quickly back to his friend.

"That was quick. What you got?"

"Yeah, well, what can I say? It's easy when you know what to look for. I was right, of course. This is not your average Spyware."

"Ok," said John slowly.

"It's called 'FinFisher'; an extremely advanced piece of specialist surveillance software, primarily used by intelligence agencies and law enforcement. It was designed to masquerade itself as another program, in this case as Mozilla Firefox. That's why the anti virus software didn't detect it as a threat."

John frowned hard, and once again he rubbed at his head, but this time he held his hand there, as if shielding his eyes from the florescent lighting in the room. He then dropped his hand.

"Alright, so…you mentioned that it was transmitting data. Can you trace it?"

Rodney frowned slightly as he looked at him, clearly noticing John's discomfort. "Already done."

"Well, where's it going?"

"Washington."

John took a sharp intake of breath. "Any chance you can pinpoint an exact location?"

"Yeah, hold on…." Rodney then turned back to the monitor, and after a few button presses, a map of Washington appeared; a tell tale red dot flashed intermittently. "Bingo!"

Placing one hand on the desk, John leant closer to the screen, and a small smile slowly began to appear. "Perfect. Alright, did you bring a memory stick?"

Rodney tutted at him. "Er, hello!" He then promptly waved a small USB stick in front of them.

John seemed oblivious to the sarcasm. "Great. Copy as much information as you need."

"Just give me five minutes."

John nodded briefly and began to turn around, but as he did so, he seemed to loose his balance, and staggered backwards slightly into the nearby server shelving.

"Whoa…You ok?" Daniel felt his heart rate pick up again.

"Yeah," replied John vaguely, rubbing at his head again. "lile dizzy…."

His words were slurred, and as Daniel stared more closely at him, he could see a slight sheen had appeared on John's face. Something clearly wasn't right.

He glanced at Teyla.

"John?" She touched his arm gently, and he slowly looked at her, squinting slightly as he did so, as if he was having trouble focusing.

"Ok, I got it!" cried Rodney, as he made his way towards them, waving the small memory stick triumphantly in the air.

"Tey-la…" John began to reach out to grab hold of her arm, but seemed almost unable to locate her, as his arm flailed about like a blind man's.

"John?" she grabbed hold of his hand just he began to pitch forwards. "John!"

Both Daniel and Mitchell stepped in immediately, steadying him just in time.

Daniel's adrenaline immediately kicked in to overdrive. "Ok, time to leave."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Their progress back to the elevator was slow going, as John now seemed to be finding it harder to walk in a straight line, and it took both Daniel and Ronon's firm grip to keep him going in the right direction.

"C'mon, John, just a little further," murmured Daniel, through tight lips.

John was beginning to lean more heavily against them now, and Daniel wasn't sure how much longer John's legs were going to hold up.

Finally they reached the elevator, and Mitchell, who had raced on ahead, had pressed the button. Luckily, the elevator was still on the same level, and the door slid open.

Just as they began to walk inside, John cried out and his legs gave out beneath him. Ronon's grip tightened and he heaved most of his friend's weight onto his hip. "S'ok, buddy, I got ya."

As the elevator began its smooth descent, all that could be heard was John's now laboured breathing and soothing piano music, from the inbuilt speakers, which no one had noticed before.

Daniel stared hard at John and bit his lower lip anxiously. John had gone very pale, and what had been just a slight sheen, had now increased to droplets of sweat, and the intermittent grimace indicated the level of pain he was now in.

All Daniel knew was that they had to get him back to the Ranch, and fast. After that, he had no idea just how they were going to help him.

The elevator quickly reached the Ground Floor and Daniel held the door open as Ronon virtually carried John out into the foyer.

"You got him?" asked Daniel, offering to help.

"Yeah, just get the damn car!" growled Ronon, shifting his hold once again as John lurched forward.

Hearing the sudden commotion, the security guards quickly turned around and looked shaken by what he saw.

"Is the limo still parked outside?" Daniel shouted at them urgently.

For a moment, both seemed to be frozen to the spot.

"Yo! Guys! The limo?" Mitchell barked.

The sound of an order quickly made one of them rush to check. "Yes sir, it's parked right outside!"

"Good!"

As they approached the doors, both guards moved swiftly to open them fully.

The family chauffeur had obviously been watching out for their return, and had already moved to open the door of the limo.

"Oh, my lord," Daniel heard the Englishman murmur, as he stood back anxiously as Teyla got in first. She slid over to the far end of the seat and then gestured for Ronon to carefully manoeuvre John in. Fortunately John was still conscious enough to help a little, but seemed to use the last remaining strength he had, as he virtually collapsed into Teyla's lap, crying out sharply as he did so.

Within seconds of the door closing, the limo shot off into the night.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Teyla could feel John's sweat beginning to soak into her thin pants as his head continued to lie in her lap. She carefully stroked his damp hair back, which had begun to stick to his face. Although he looked extremely pale, his skin felt hot to the touch. She moved her other hand down to his arm, and his shirt felt drenched too.

She tried not to let her rising panic overwhelm her, so instead focussed on his face, which didn't help as he looked to be in total agony. His fists were held so tight that his knuckles were turning white, and his breathing had now become more laboured. Once again he was groaning with each exhale.

"Teyla," Daniel's gentle voice made her look up sharply. "Was this what happened…before?"

She gnawed at her lip a little before she replied. "I cannot say for sure, Daniel, as I was not present when the visions first began."

She looked back down as John groaned and shifted slightly, but his eyes remained squeezed tightly shut, so she was unable to determine whether or not they were blue with his energy.

"I have," murmured Rodney slowly. "It's the same."

Daniel scooted to the edge of the seat and leant towards the open privacy screen. "Er, Greaves, isn't it?"

The chauffeur turned his head slightly. "Yes sir."

"Greaves, we're gonna need to go faster…" He tried to keep his voice light, but the urgency in his voice was very apparent.

"Yes sir!" With that, the limo accelerated hard, and Daniel activated his earpiece.

"Er, Jack, we gotta a problem."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Just as Daniel expected, Jack had instantly taken action, and the entrance of the Ranch was clear of all reporters.

As they pulled up outside the front door, both Daniel and Teyla tried to rouse John, but he now appeared to be completely unresponsive. So once again, Ronon heaved John's almost dead weight out of the limo, straight into a fireman's lift, and moved quickly into the house.

Jack stood waiting for them. "Damn it, is he conscious?"

"Barely," replied Daniel.

"Where?" asked Ronon, shifting his hold slightly, as John let out another groan.

"The Snug," said Teyla, and she quickly led the way.

Daniel was rather relieved that there appeared to be very few people left in the house. "Where is everybody?"

"I told them all to take the night off," replied Jack, rather dismissively.

"Really?" Daniel looked at him, rather surprised that he had managed to get everyone out, considering the circumstances.

Jack gave him a look. "What, a General and his team can't handle one night alone?"

Daniel smiled slightly. His friend appeared to have finally gotten used to his extremely powerful status. "Good point."

Teyla had grabbed a couple of cushions from a nearby chair, and Ronon began to lay John carefully down, as she supported his head.

"So, what happened? Was it the headache?" asked Jack, frowning.

"Yeah," murmured Daniel, "it just seemed to get worse until he almost passed out."

"He said anything?"

"No, not yet."

"You do think it's…" Jack trailed off meaningfully.

"Yeah." Daniel grimaced, "well, at least I hope it is."

"You _hope_?"

Daniel stared back at him. "Yes, because if it isn't a vision, I have no idea what _it_ is."

Jack went to sit on one of the armchairs opposite to where John now lay.

"Is this…normal?" Jack leant forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, as he stared hard at the man on the sofa.

"I don't think any of this could be classed as normal," replied Daniel bitterly. He hated to watch anyone in pain, least of all when it was John.

John continued to groan, shifting his position slightly, and seemed to mumble something, but his eyes remained firmly closed.

"John?" Teyla knelt beside him, staring at him intently.

Daniel moved quietly to kneel down beside her, to offer what little support he could. As he stared more closely at him, he could see there was rapid eye movement, which Daniel knew only too well what that indicated, or rather would do normally: REM sleep was usually the time when dreams would occur.

But in this case, it had to be a vision.

John suddenly gasped, long and loud, bolted upright, and yelled at the top of his voice, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?"

Everyone in the room started, though Daniel quickly recovered himself, and moved in close once again. "John? Can you hear me?"

John was now panting hard, yet his eyes were still closed, as he started to move his head around, as if he was trying to see.

"I don't _know_ ANYTHING!" he sounded insistent, but it had lost that usual John Sheppard confidence. It was as though….

"John?" Daniel grimaced as he watched Teyla slowly reach out towards him. But as she slowly placed her hand on top of John's, he cried out and flinched away so violently that his eyes flew open.

"Oh my," Daniel whispered. He now understood why Teyla had found the sight of John's bright blue eyes so disturbing.

Not that 'flashing' eyes were a new concept for him; after dealing with the Goa'uld for almost fifteen years, it was almost old hat. But, coming from John, it was a whole different ball game. And they were incredibly bright!

Teyla took a few deep calming breaths. "John?" Her voice was calm and firm, but she looked incredibly distressed that she could cause such a strong reaction from him.

John breathed deeply and then slowly moved his bright blue eyes to look at her. He blinked a couple of times, as if he was trying to bring his vision into focus. As he continued to stare at her, his features began to loose some of its rigidity.

"Are you alright?" Her control slipped a little, and her voice broke with emotion.

John swallowed hard as he continued to look at her. To Daniel, it almost looked as if he was communicating with her, telepathically. Sure enough, she then sighed heavily, and closed her eyes for a moment.

"John?" Daniel asked softly, "What… did you see?"

Again, John swallowed hard. "N…nothing…" his voice was so quiet that everyone had to strain to hear him, though he sounded rather vague, almost as though he was still partially under the influence of the vision.

Daniel frowned. "You saw nothing?"

John's bright blue eyes stared back at him. "I….I'm…blindfolded."

The room was so quiet, that everyone heard Teyla's slight but sharp intake of breath.

"Could you hear anything?" Daniel pressed on, relieved that John was actually responding to him.

John physically shuddered. "Voices."

"Did you recognise any of them?" Daniel continued, maintaining his very gentle tone.

John frowned hard. "No."

"What…" Daniel hesitated for a moment. "What were they talking about?"

John leant his head to one side, as if he was still trying to listen. "I don't know. I…can't…. understand what they are saying."

Daniel was surprised for two reasons. Firstly, John had already shown that he knew several languages at least, and many of those were pretty universal. So what language could they be speaking?

Secondly, John was actually talking in the present tense, and not in the past, which indicated one thing: that this was no ordinary vision. John was actually connected to David, in real time.

Daniel pushed on quickly. "Are they speaking a language that is alien to you or…?"

He glanced briefly at the others, especially Jack, as Daniel carefully put the question into the present tense.

John continued to stare at him. Even though Daniel was used to flashing eyes, the look he was giving him was rather unsettling to say the least.

"I…" John suddenly stopped and looked away. "They are running some kind of…tests," John spoke slowly.

"Tests? What kind of tests?" Jack quickly asked.

John continued to stare into space. "I… don't know. But they are taking… a lot of blood."

Teyla visibly shuddered. "Is David….?" She asked so softly, but seemed afraid to finish her question.

John slowly looked back at her. "He is… in bad shape." John then took a sharp intake of breath. "Injecting something…" he grimaced, and started to look down towards his arm. "Feel…weird."

John now sounded even more dazed, as he seemed to be feeling exactly what his brother was.

Daniel struggled to keep his voice calm and soft. "John, does it feel familiar? Like perhaps when your DNA began to change?"

John seemed to sway slightly, and his eyes began to droop. "No. D'frnt."

Although Daniel couldn't be completely reassured by this, at least it didn't appear that someone was tampering with David's genetic makeup. But the effect it was having on John was truly alarming.

Just then, John's demeanour suddenly changed.

"No….not again. No, don't! _Please!_" John pleaded over and over, and then began to struggle to push himself backwards along the sofa, as if trying to get away from someone or something.

Teyla clearly couldn't stand it, and reached out towards him, but Daniel instantly intercepted her hand. "Don't," he said firmly, "I think…we have to let this take its course."

Teyla stared hard at him for a moment, her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded her understanding and drew back her hand.

"NO! Get off me!" John seemed to struggle for a moment, and then gave out a blood curdling cry, his eyes slammed shut, and his head dropped down.

Daniel glanced at Teyla again, who had raised a fist to her mouth, as if to stop herself from crying out. He took hold of her other hand, squeezing it reassuringly as he looked back at John.

His head was still down and his eyes remained closed. His fists were clenched tightly beside him and he was panting heavily, as though he had just sprinted for a full hour.

"John?" Daniel spoke his name hesitantly, uncertain of what his reaction would now be. Was he still connected, or had that now been broken? He uttered his name again, a little firmer this time.

John's head slowly lifted and he gradually began to open his eyes. Thankfully his eyes had returned to their normal colour.

"You…back with us?" Daniel asked carefully.

John once again swallowed hard, and raised a rather shaky hand to rub at his head. "Yeah." His voice shook almost as much as his hand.

Daniel quickly glanced over at Mitchell, who instantly understood his meaning, got up and made his way over to the bar. After grabbing a glass of cold water, he handed it to Daniel.

He smiled his thanks, and then offered it to John. "Here. Drink this."

John winced as he looked up, and slowly reached to take the glass. Only his hand was still shaking so much, Daniel wasn't sure that he wouldn't soon be wearing it, but Teyla was quick to step in. She leant forward and gently placed her hands over his, steadying it, and helped him raise it to his lips.

"Slowly, John," she murmured tenderly as he began to gulp the water down rapidly.

After almost draining the glass of its contents, they both lowered the glass. He sighed heavily and then looked up at her for a moment, before

John broke eye contact, and looked down once again. Teyla bit her lip as she too lowered her head.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Jack didn't like any of this. Not one damn bit!

Blindfolded, blood taking, and tests. It all screamed ATA Gene envy.

What was even more unsettling, if all that wasn't bad enough, was that Daniel had pretty much insinuated that the 'people' might even be alien.

What the hell?

At least Sheppard seemed to have finally lost the 'link', or vision…or whatever it was that had just happened.

Jack couldn't help but feel for him. The guy now looked utterly drained.

Sheppard sighed heavily, and sank his head back against the sofa. As he began to close his eyes, Teyla slipped her hand into one of his, which he grasped onto tightly.

Jack looked over at his friend, just as Daniel looked back at him. He quickly tilted his head slightly, indicating that he wanted a quiet word. Daniel sighed and slowly got to his feet to join him.

"Well, what do you think, Daniel?" Jack kept his voice low, as soon as they were over by the window.

Daniel shook his head. "It's not looking good, is it?"

Jack sighed. "It would be really useful if he could just 'see' something!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he feels the same way."

"So, you think that, whoever has David Sheppard, might be…_alien_?"

Daniel shrugged. "I have no idea, Jack. The fact that John didn't understand what they were saying…well, you know that he is pretty good with languages…"

"Yeah. But…_alien_?" He couldn't help but sound incredulous. "Since when did Strom, if that's who is behind this, suddenly get in bed with an alien race? And how the hell did he get in touch with them, if that's the case?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Daniel glanced back towards John, who now seemed to be resting more peacefully. "Maybe we can ask him once he has rested a bit."

Jack sighed. "Yeah. Sooner the better, if you ask me." He glanced at his watch. "It's getting pretty late."

"So, first dibs on a sofa then?" Daniel tried to smile, and Jack couldn't help but smile back.

"Marie…" Sheppard's rather unsteady voice came from the sofa, causing them both to look at him. He was gingerly pushing himself up to a sitting position, and Teyla was helping him.

"What did you say, son?" Jack walked back towards him, so Sheppard would not have to strain his voice.

"Get Marie…I'll have her make up some rooms."

"You sure you got enough?" asked Jack, rather playfully, as he already imagined that this place housed several bedrooms.

John managed to roll his eyes slightly, and then grimaced, as his head was still clearly giving him some discomfort. He then gave a slight ghost of a smile. "Yes sir, more than enough."

He then began to lower his feet to the floor and tried to push himself up, but groaned so heavily, that Daniel quickly intervened.

"No, John, don't get up. You need to rest. I'll go see Marie."

John sighed, smiling weakly at him as he sank back against the cushions. "Thanks."

The ease in which he had agreed clearly showed just how truly exhausted he felt.

Daniel sighed, and then went off to find Marie.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Daniel couldn't help but glance once again in John's direction, across the long length of the dining room table.

Despite the late hour, Marie had truly proved her worth as the family's cook, and had provided a fantastic meal, though John had eaten very little.

John continued to push his food around the plate, staring at the contents, but clearly not seeing it. His mind was clearly preoccupied elsewhere.

It had been an hour since John's vision, and everyone's unspoken concern for him, had created a strange atmosphere.

Conversation had understandably been jilted and restrained, as they had all tried desperately to avoid bringing up what they were all thinking: the true content of his vision, and its implications.

Plus the fact that Marie's comings and goings were making it virtually impossible to discuss anything remotely relevant to the situation.

Daniel knew that, although the elderly woman seemed to speak only in her native tongue, it was only because she preferred to, and not because she couldn't speak English. In fact she actually understood a lot more than she let on.

She hadn't been their resident cook for over thirty years, without knowing the odd swear word or two either, which, Daniel was sure, could only be attributed to the Sheppard brothers.

"_Merci__, Marie, ce sera tout_," said John quietly to her, as she once more began her hovering.

John's polite yet firm dismissal reminded Daniel of the world that John had once been a part of.

But Marie hardly fitted the ideal image of an obedient servant, as she placed both hands on her hips, and regarded him like a schoolmistress to a naughty pupil.

"_Mais vous n'avez rein mange! Pas étonnant que vous êtes si mince!"_

Marie clearly wasn't happy that John hadn't eaten anything, and had started to point at him, to which John just sighed, clearly having heard her comment on how thin he was, countless times before.

"_Ne vous embêter, Marie, je suis très bien." _He sounded tired; as he told her not to fuss and that he was fine.

She frowned; as she clearly wasn't buying his response that she had obviously heard a great many times before too. But she seemed to understand the serious look he was giving her, warning her to drop it, as she tutted loudly, and then stormed back into the kitchen, mumbling a few chosen French swear words.

John then looked somewhat embarrassed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He then seemed to glare at his plate, picked up his fork and stabbed at a defenceless potato.

Daniel smiled into his glass of water. So, the nanny had not lost the ability of getting John Sheppard to eat his food after all….

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

John grimaced and tried to breathe deeply, as yet another wave of nausea washed over him.

After only managing a few mouthfuls of food, of which now sat heavily in his stomach like a stone, he finally gave up and pushed his plate away.

He didn't need to look up to know that everyone had seen him do so. They had all been watching him, as they sat around the large dining room table, glancing at him for signs of another vision. It had only been an hour, and although he still felt the residual effects, he did feel better. Well, apart from the sore head and the bouts of nausea.

He also knew that he wasn't about to have another vision. Having had four, well two that he considered 'full on' proper ones and two in the form of dreams, he was beginning to learn and understand. Though in classic John Sheppard style, it obviously had to be the hard way, as usual.

What he had just experienced, though, was...something he would think about later; perhaps when the nausea had eased a little.

But it wasn't just the food, or his vision, that was making him feel so wretched.

Although they had briefly spoken since he had snapped at her, he still felt that it hadn't been enough.

Even though he had never intended to lash out, least of all at her, it was her soft words that had been the catalyst, the moment he had lost control.

In all the years he had known her, not once had their arguments been of a personal nature. Perhaps it was his so called powers that had been the reason for his rather unusual lack of control. Still, there was no excuse.

He had crossed the line, and he had had broken his promise. He had let her down, just as he had his brother.

No. This was about Teyla, not Dave.

Even under the most extreme situations he had always managed to remain in control, and focussed. This would be no different. He would find Dave and bring him home, end of story.

No, at this very moment, it was about Teyla, and their relationship.

Over the years, she had become more than just an integral part of his team. She brought balance to his chaos, clarity to his confusion, and reason to his recklessness.

He sighed heavily, staring at his hands that now lay in his lap.

He had apologised, but he knew it wasn't enough. It was such a small word, 'sorry', and it never did have the power to undo what had been done. His marriage had been a true testament to that.

He had sworn to himself that he would tread carefully, and not make the same mistakes he had made before. Teyla deserved better. Someone who would cherish her, respect her, and treat her in the way she deserved to be treated.

Someone like Kanaan….

His stomach tightened uncomfortably and he once more had to breathe through the nausea.

No. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now.

While their friendship was not new, their intimate relationship was. Their connection was far deeper, far stronger than he had ever felt before in his life. Even though she still had to speak to Kanaan, he knew that she was his, and he was hers, and that he would fight for her, no matter what.

Although his mind was trying to tell him that he was making the same mistakes as before, his heart was telling him that this was different. He was different. She was not Nancy, and neither was he that man, and hadn't been for a long time.

One thing he did know for sure: the longer things were left unsaid and unresolved, the harder it would be to actually fix them. Yes, he could perhaps let it ride, which he had done with Nancy, but he wouldn't and couldn't do that to Teyla. He was already finding it hard to meet her gaze, so strong was his guilt now.

No, he would fix this, no matter how difficult it was going to be. But he knew she would listen, quietly and patiently, just as she always did when he stumbled over his words, like some awkward teenager.

"John?"

He instantly looked up at the sound of her voice.

"Perhaps we should move to a more…comfortable room?"

He smiled somewhat shyly at her. She always did know how to read him, though his discomfort must be plain for all to see. Sure enough, as he glanced at the others, they were all looking expectantly at him.

"Sure, why not?" he replied quietly.

He slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. He tried not to grimace too much as he did so, as his stomach tightened uncomfortably, and couldn't help but rest a hand over it as he moved towards the door.

Though Teyla didn't say anything, he could still feel her eyes watching him.

He sighed as he led them into the Family Room. He knew what was coming. Now that dinner was done, and Marie had disappeared, the questioning would begin.

Whilst he knew it was integral to them moving forward, the experience was still so raw, and he had yet to actually come to terms with it himself.

He knew that he had to share it with the others, and that was something that he was never very good at.

He glanced briefly up at the two portraits on the wall, and then went to sit down carefully on one of the armchairs as he others all found various seats, making themselves comfortable.

He suddenly realised he had just made a big faux pas. Perhaps it was the eyes of his father, staring down at him from the painting, telling him that this was no way for a host to act, and he slowly began to heave himself out of the chair.

"What's up, John?" asked Daniel, always attentive.

John smiled. "I was just about to get some drinks…"

Daniel merely waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit back down. "I'll get them," and before John could refuse, Daniel had quickly moved to the bar area.

Feeling rather awkward, John sat back down, while Daniel began to hand out some drinks.

As he was doing this, John couldn't help but look back up at the portraits. Trying not to look at the stern expression on his father's face, he focussed instead on that of his mother.

Her beautiful face looked almost animated for a moment: as though she had just smiled at him, welcoming him home. He felt his energies settle a little, and his nausea seemed to ease.

He sighed as he leant back against the chair, and let his eyes wander around the rest of the room. These four walls had witnessed so many arguments, tears and pain. But it had also seen a lot laughter and joy too.

It had been his mother's favourite room. She had so loved to sit in the very armchair he now sat in; her head back, her eyes closed, listening to him play. He had always felt so proud every time he had made her smile, and utter the word, '_Bravo',_ whenever he had mastered yet another complicated piece.

He watched as Teyla moved quietly towards the Steinway, gently running her fingertips along its smooth surface as she walked along its length until she stopped and looked down at the keyboard.

He glanced surreptitiously at the others: now that Daniel had handed out the drinks he was talking quietly to O'Neill on one of the sofas, Ronon and Mitchell were both stretched out on another, looking almost asleep, and Rodney was sat at the computer desk, no doubt checking out the data he had copied from PSI.

For now, that particular issue could wait.

He slowly stood up, and tried to ignore the eyes that now watched him, as he slowly made his way over to her.

Teyla turned, and gave him a shy smile, before she looked back at the piano.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "You…ok?"

Her eyes remained on the piano. "I was merely remembering…the last time I heard you play."

John smiled gently, remembering it too. She had been deeply moved by it, as he had been, but for very different reasons.

She had never heard such music before, whereas he had unleashed his emotions in a way that he hadn't done since…his mother had past away.

Perhaps it was time, once again, to just let go….

Without saying another word, he slid smoothly onto the stool, and looked tentatively up at her. She was smiling at him, though her eyes looked somewhat sad.

He returned her smile, and then looked away. Yes, they needed to talk, but not here. He would do that in a much more private place.

For now, he would let his music speak for him.

He breathed out deeply, settling his energy, and centring himself. He then slowly opened the case, and positioned his feet over the pedals, placed his hands on the keys, and closed his eyes.

He had no idea what he would play, so he would let his fingers decide.

Before he knew it, he had started to play, and it took a second or two for him to realise just what he was playing: it was a piano rendition of 'Us and them', by Pink Floyd.

A smile slowly began to form, as his fingers moved smoothly over the keys, once again as though it had only been yesterday when he had last played it.

As he continued to play, he felt his energies begin to respond.

Throughout the entire day, they had felt like a torrent, and he had struggled at times just to keep his head above the water. It had actually felt as though he had been drowning as the vision had truly taken hold. The rush and sheer power of it had almost completely overwhelmed him. But he had fought hard against his desire to control, and had managed to let go, just as he did so now.

This particular piece had particular significance for John, as the words reminded him of a time that had scarred him deeply.

Afghanistan.

'_Us and them_

_And after all we're only ordinary men._

_Me, and you_

_God only knows it's not what we would choose to do._

_Forward he cried from the rear_

_And the front rank died….'_

Faces of unforgotten friends and comrades began to drift into his mind, and his energies stirred. But he merely screwed his eyes more tightly closed, and continued to play until he finally finished the piece.

The final notes echoed around the room, as all conversation had appeared to have ceased. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked up at Teyla.

Once more her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and her smile was sad.

"That was amazing, John," said Daniel appreciatively. "I didn't know you played."

"Well, it's not exactly a useful skill in the Air Force," replied John, trying to shrug off the praise as best he could.

"You should hear him play Moonlight Sonata, then," commented Rodney, who was still sat in front of the computer.

"Classical too?" asked Daniel, clearly impressed.

John just smiled sheepishly at him.

"What was that anyway?" asked O'Neill.

"Pink Floyd. Us and Them," replied John.

"Nice," said the General, who then took another large swig of his scotch.

"Did David play?" asked Teyla carefully.

"A bit, though he never was very good at it. Mum used to say that Dave had Dad's analytical mind, and that I had her creative flair, though we all knew I was pretty good with numbers too." John couldn't help but smile at her, which she returned, but then looked away. She still looked sad.

He frowned a little. He hated to see her so sad, especially when it was of his own making.

He sighed and looked back at the keys. What could he play that might lighten the mood?

After a moment, he then began to smile as one particular tune sprung to mind.

Over the years, their brotherly competitive streak was exacerbated by the constant comparison that his father would make between them. Often Dave would do something, which would completely make him out to be the better, more ideal son than John was. His mother had just rolled her eyes, her unspoken words told him not to worry, that it was just something his father did, and that she loved him, no matter what.

But John had always been the more cunning out of the two of them, and had found his own ways of getting back at Dave. There was one piece that he would always play on such occasions, and it usually worked; resulting in Dave storming off.

At the time, it was serious contest. Looking back, it was harmless sibling rivalry.

Nevertheless, John felt the need to play it now, as if it once more connected him to his brother in some small way.

John began to play. Left hand: set the deep rhythm. Right hand: picked up the melody. It had been such a long time since he had played the Blues, and its unusual 7/4-4/4 time signature had always been a refreshing change, and his foot tapped along to the beat, like a metronome.

As he continued to play, he remembered the words, and found himself grinning when he got to the two bits which used to get Dave's back up the most:

_New car, caviar, four star day dream_

_Think I'll buy me a football team…_

_I'm in hi-fidelity_

_First class travelling set_

_And I think I need a Lear jet…_

As soon as he finished playing, Rodney instantly began clicking his fingers together.

"Oh, I know that one…no, don't tell me...MONEY!"

John grinned at him. "Never knew you were a Floyd fan, Rodney. Thought Celine Dion was more your style."

His friend looked immediately indignant. "She is my favourite artist, yes, but it doesn't mean that I can't appreciate other genres too."

"'Course not," replied John, feeling rather pleased that he had been able to relieve some of the uneasy tension.

Although his headache was still there, his nausea had eased and his stomach had settled. His energy was calm, and he felt strangely balanced and centred.

It was time.

He took a deep breath, and looked seriously at General O'Neill. "Sir, we have to go to Washington."

**To be continued…**

**Post script:**

The spyware, **FinFisher**, does actually exist, and is used by intelligence agencies. Apparently it infected Apple's Itunes software in 2008.

If you want to 'hear' John play the Pink Floyd pieces, check out 'Vitamin piano Series', Piano Tribute to Pink Floyd.

'Us and Them' seemed to be extremely appropriate, as well as beautiful. It also reminds me of the music from Stargate Universe, Gauntlet, which never fails to bring a lump to my throat.

Dave actually mentions the song, 'Money', in Chapter 22 of The Legacy of Janus, as he stood on the deck of the Daedalus. I can really imagine John playing it, just to wind his brother up.

Thanks again for all their reviews and PMs. I really appreciate all of your thoughts, continued support and encouragement. Please, don't stop!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Surprise! Another chapter for you, and in record time!

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 5**

"Washington. Ok." Jack O'Neill waited for Sheppard to continue, but he didn't. "So you found something on the PSI servers I take it then?"

"Yes sir." Sheppard glanced over at McKay, who now sat on the edge of his seat, looking as though he was about to burst.

Jack took a deep breath. Oh, here comes the overcomplicated explanation: just what he needed to hear, at almost midnight. He braced himself. "What?"

"It's a very sophisticated piece of spyware called FinFisher, which is predominantly used by intelligence agencies and law enforcement."

"Ok. So, what's it…doing?" Jack was somewhat surprised by the rather short explanation. Perhaps Sheppard's influence had finally begun to rub off on the scientist.

"Feeding incredible amounts of data to an outside source."

"On PSI?"

"On PSI, David Sheppard, financials, contacts, meetings…"

"Why?" Jack couldn't quite see who or why someone would do that, unless it was to take over the company…or something.

"Well, that's a very good question…"

"I know that," Jack replied sharply. He always did have a hard time keeping his patience with McKay, "that's why I asked it."

"So, you think that, whoever was after David, is after PSI as well?" Mitchell asked pointedly.

"No," Sheppard replied, frowning. "The fact that these computers are connected to PSI was merely a bonus. They were after one thing and one thing only. Dave."

"Ok, I buy that," replied Jack slowly, and then reluctantly looked back at McKay. "Did you find anything…useful?"

The scientist grinned. "Oh yeah. I located where the data is actually being transmitted to."

"Washington," Jack said flatly, and then looked across at Sheppard. "You get an exact location?"

"Yes Sir."

"Where?" Jack almost held his breath.

"IOA Headquarters," Sheppard said, darkly.

Jack stared at him, and then a small smile began to appear, though the smile that Sheppard returned was far more menacing.

"Sir." Sheppard slowly stood up. "We have more than enough evidence to implicate Strom now."

He stared at the Colonel for a moment. "Yes. We do. We leave for Washington in the morning."

Finally, it felt like they were beginning to get somewhere.

"Sheppard, just what happened…in your vision?" Jack was never as subtle as Daniel when it came to questioning, as he usually preferred the more direct route. He hoped that, as Sheppard was ultimately a military man, he would respond to him as any soldier would.

"I…."Sheppard slowly sat down again on the piano stool, and looked rather uncomfortable. "I seem to be able to connect with my brother, sir."

"So, you were really experiencing just what he was going though, at exactly the same time?"

"It…would appear so, sir."

"Well, at least we know he's alive."

"Yes sir. I just wish there was a way to communicate with him."

"Maybe you can," added Daniel, causing everyone to look at him. "What? Well, no one knows what John is actually capable of, so you can't truly rule the possibility out completely."

Jack stared at his friend for a moment. Daniel had a point. He looked back at Sheppard. "You think maybe…."

Sheppard frowned harder. "I have…no idea sir."

"Maybe Brother Benedict could help."

"No sir." Sheppard was quick to respond, his voice firm.

"What, he can't help?"

"More like he _won't_ help. Sir," he replied resentfully.

"I thought he was supposed to be your Guardian or something…" Now Jack was just downright confused. "Isn't he supposed to, I dunno, _guide_?"

"Apparently it's against the rules, sir."

Jack frowned. "I thought only ascended beings had to abide by those rules. And he clearly isn't one of those."

"No Sir, he isn't."

Jack huffed. Great, just great. Well, perhaps Sheppard could work on his 'connection' on his own. In the meantime, what else had they got?

He scratched his head. "So you really didn't understand what '_they'_ were saying?"

"No sir."

"Could it be that you just couldn't hear them properly, or it was a language you just didn't recognise?"

"It.…wasn't a language I have ever heard before, Sir. I speak a few, and it wasn't even close to one of them. So, no, I don't think it was because I couldn't hear them properly, Sir."

Well, so far so bad. At least Sheppard was answering his questions, even if it was making the feeling in his gut even stronger.

"You said that your brother is… in bad shape."

"He…" Sheppard grimaced.

Jack knew that recalling these particular facts would be the most disturbing, but he knew he had to push him. "Sheppard?"

"Yes sir." He took a deep breath and took a moment before he continued. When he did his voice was devoid of any emotion. Jack instantly recognised what he was doing: he was compartmentalising again, enabling him to focus purely on the facts, and deliver his report to his CO.

"He is still suffering from the head wound, Sir. The blood loss isn't helping matters either. He has eaten, but is failing to keep much food or fluids down, due to the further blood taking and injections."

Jack gave him a moment, as he knew that couldn't have been easy. If he had been supposedly linked to his brother, for god knows how long, it was no wonder that Sheppard had been having a hard time holding himself together. It also explained the headache and the nausea.

He rubbed at his head thoughtfully. So, David Sheppard was going to be dehydrated pretty damn fast, if they kept doing what they were doing. And with a head wound….

Jack looked back at him. "The tests. You said that they were taking a lot of blood. And that you, or rather David, were injected with something."

Sheppard remained completely focussed, his response crisp, like a soldier should. "Yes sir."

"It made you feel weird. How was it …weird?"

"Groggy, but that might be down to the head wound and blood loss, Sir. But, after the injection…" he hesitated for a moment, and looked to be struggling to find the words, so Jack waited patiently for him to continue.

"After the injection it felt like I…he had been given a massive dose of Morphine mixed with some kind of stimulant. The nausea…." Sheppard looked away and physically swallowed hard, as if trying to keep himself from vomiting, and he had suddenly gone very pale.

"Hey, son. You ok?" Had he pushed the guy too far too quickly? He was pretty sure that Sheppard was no longer connected to his brother, so was it just the residual affects? Either way, he didn't look so good.

John cleared his throat and once more looked back at him. "Yes sir. I'm…fine."

Yeah, he had heard that line before. "No. You're not."

Sheppard looked as though he was about to argue, so Jack just held up a hand. "Alright, I think that about does it for tonight. We can discuss this further when we head back to Washington. It's really late, and I don't know about you, but I'm about ready to hit the sack."

"Yes sir."

With that, they all quickly finished their drinks and headed in the direction of the stairs.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Sweet!" Jack said appreciatively, as he surveyed the rather opulent room that appeared to be his for the night.

"I'm in the 'Green Room'," announced Daniel, leaning on the door frame. He was in the next room, and couldn't resist the temptation to go check out what his friend's looked like.

Jack rolled his eyes. "What is it with rich folks and their incessant need to name things? I mean, couldn't they come up with better ones than the 'blue room' or the 'green room'?"

Daniel grinned and ambled in. "Oh, I dunno, I think it has to do with some old tradition that started in England. All stately homes have them."

Jack snorted. "Well, my place wouldn't take long to name. They'd all be called 'beige'."

Daniel laughed. "Yeah, well, you don't have at least eight bedrooms…"

"Eight?"

"Yeah. Counting you, me, Ronon, Rodney, Mitchell, John, and Teyla…makes seven, and then there's David's room, Marie's…"

Jack held up his hands. "Ok, I get it. Lotta rooms." He then grinned rather mischievously. "Although, if I'm not mistaken, one room may not be getting used tonight…"

Daniel frowned, wondering for a moment if he was referring to David's.

"Oh, c'mon, Daniel, you'd have to be McKay not to notice those two…"

"Oh…" Daniel shifted uncomfortably, as the so called penny dropped. "Er, well, yeah."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"They are kinda…keeping a low profile for now."

Jack nodded. "Understood."

"What, you don't have a problem with it?" Daniel was somewhat surprised by his response.

"Should I?"

"Well, he is technically still in the Air Force, and she is technically on his team."

Jack just looked at him blankly. "Nope, still don't see a problem with it."

Daniel grinned at him. "Good. John would be pleased to hear that."

"Did he think that I would have a problem with it?"

"Maybe."

Jack made a surprised noise. "About time, that's all I can say."

Daniel's grin widened. "My sentiments exactly."

Jack went to sit down on the bed, and bounced up and down slightly, testing the softness of the mattress. "Not bad."

Daniel went to sit on a chair opposite the bed.

Jack suddenly stopped bouncing, and instantly looked serious. "Daniel, you know I am a great believer in my gut feeling, right?"

Daniel nodded, but remained silent, as he waited for him to continue.

"Well, I just got a feeling that there is more to all this than meets the eye."

"Isn't there always?"

"Yeah, I just got a funny feeling…"

Daniel snorted. "Well, all your feelings are pretty funny, Jack,"

Jack just glared at him. "I'm serious, Daniel. This just doesn't add up."

Daniel knew better than to interrupt. Jack's gut feelings had saved their butts more times than he could count over the years, so he knew when to pay attention.

Jack rubbed at his chin thoughtfully as he continued. "The tests clearly prove that this isn't just about getting David Sheppard to 'activate' some Ancient do-hickey. So who would have access to both the technology AND the know-how about the ATA Gene to pull this off?"

"Strom," offered Daniel bluntly.

"Yeah but he's a gutless wonder, so I can't see him acting on his own."

"So, you think there's some other…group involved?"

"Yeah, but your comment about another Alien race…its kind got me thinkin'."

"I didn't actually mean '_alien'_, as in from space, Jack, merely that John didn't recognise it."

"Yeah, I know that. But it…would kinda make sense…" he trailed off, clearly deep in thought.

"But who?"

"I don't know!" Jack's frustration bubbled out. He then growled, and threw himself back onto the bed. "You know, life used to be so much easier! We'd go to a planet; get shot at by the bad guys, who are, you know, unmistakably the bad guys. We kill said bad guys, save the people, and get back home in time for dinner. Well, mostly anyways. So when the hell did it all get so complicated?!"

"I don't know, Jack. Maybe you aught to retire…" Daniel tried not to smile.

Jack sat up. "I did, Daniel, twice!"

"Well, I guess the universe still has need of you."

Jack turned and punched an extremely soft pillow. "Yeah. Whatever."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Teyla, please. Stop." John implored again.

But she continued to ignore him, as she finished arranging the bed covers.

Apart from Ronon, who had chosen to stay on watch, everyone else had gone to their respective bedrooms. The house had been locked up, an alarm had apparently been set, and all was silent.

"Look, this isn't necessary, honestly…I feel much better now." John tried again.

Even though he continued to insist that he was, Teyla knew only too well of his tendency to dismiss matters of his own health, and he had eaten so very little. He was also continuing to grimace every once in a while, and would go very pale.

She paused to turn her head towards him. John was leaning heavily against one of the posts of the large bed, which he had called a 'four poster'.

She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, to which he sighed and looked down at the floor, clearly defeated.

"Yeah, ok, so I'm not 100% yet, but I'm feeling much better."

She tried not to smile too much at his almost childlike admission. She pulled back the cover and gestured for him to come over.

"Teyla…"

"You must rest, John," she interrupted him firmly.

He sighed, and made his way slowly towards her, but sat down defiantly on the edge of the bed.

She folded her arms, and gave him a look.

"Teyla," John began slowly, looking at his hands, "we need to talk."

Her heart almost stopped as she suddenly had the most devastating thought.

Was he about to call an end to their relationship?

"I…It is late, John, and you must rest. We have an early start in the morning," she replied quickly and began to walk away, but he shot up off the bed and grabbed her arm.

"Teyla, please. I…."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, as her sudden thought began to take root and grow. She took a deep, steadying breath and slowly lowered herself onto the bed beside him.

"Alright, what would you like to talk about?" Luckily her voice held steady.

"Us."

Her heart skipped another beat. "What about…us?"

"I…" John trailed off, and her heart melted as she once more waited for him to find the words. Only this time, she feared hearing them.

His continuing silence was becoming unbearable.

"I think…I know what you are about to say," she offered, not wishing to prolong the torture any further, as she felt as though her heart was about to break.

He looked quickly back at her. "You do?"

Teyla looked away, not wanting to stare once more into those beautiful dark eyes, as that would truly be the undoing of her. "Yes." She took a deep breath. "And…I…."

She couldn't bring herself to utter the words, so looked up at the ceiling, and sighed.

John turned to face her fully. "Look, you know that I would never consciously hurt you, Teyla, but…"

Teyla couldn't bear it, and stood up. "Don't, John."

She could feel his eyes staring up at her, but still she refused to look at him. Unfortunately, he chose to stand up too.

"I need to say it, Teyla."

Tears suddenly blurred her vision. "Very well," she breathed, and they both sat down on the bed again. She tried desperately to brace herself.

He took hold of both of her hands. "Teyla, look at me."

She forced herself to do so, and her tears threatened to fall. He looked so handsome, so strong, yet so vulnerable. How would she be able to see his smile, without wishing to kiss him, or see his arms, and not wish to be held by them?

She tried to look away, but he was quick to take hold of her chin, moving her face gently back towards him.

"I'm sorry, Teyla," he said firmly, staring deep into her eyes. "I should never have shut you out, nor should I have spoken to you like that. I was wrong, and I'm so terribly, terribly sorry. Please. Forgive me?"

She stared at him, suddenly confused. "Forgive you?"

John broke eye contact for a moment, as if he couldn't bear to meet her gaze, but then quickly returned to look at her. "I know that you have every right to be angry with me. After everything I said, I still let you down. I still shut you out. I wish I could undo what I did, but I can't."

He turned away, leant his forearms on his thighs and looked down at his hands that were now hung between his knees.

"I crossed the line, Teyla, I know that. My whole life, I have been brought up with the strong values of decency and respect for a woman, and what I did…and how I feel for you…" he glanced sideways at her for a moment and then looked back down at his hands.

"I know my…abilities are changing and that they are… affecting me. I am…_trying_ to understand, but that's still no excuse for my behaviour. I just don't want you to think…badly of me, and that this is the man I am…turning into. Because it isn't, and never will be."

He lifted his head once again, and looked at her. His voice had hardened, and his expression determined. "For what it's worth, I give you my word, that I will do by best …not to shut you out, and I will _never_, ever speak to you like that again."

Teyla could hardly breathe! He wasn't ending their relationship; he was actually fighting for it. He was trying to fix what he thought he had broken.

"John…I…" she breathed, as she struggled to find the right words.

He slowly looked back at her, and she couldn't help but see the anguish in his face, especially in his eyes.

"Please, Teyla, don't…give up on me." His voice suddenly sounded so small.

Her vision once more blurred with tears. But they were no longer tears of sorrow, but of joy. "I could no more give up on my own heart, than I could give up on you, John," she murmured gently.

"So…you forgive me?"

He looked anxious but hopeful, and his furrowed brow gave him an almost childlike expression, as he waited to hear her say the words.

She sighed. He was right about everything he had said. His behaviour had shocked, as well as hurt her, and she swore long ago that no man would ever disrespect her. The fact that General O'Neill had felt the need to intervene also told her that she had not been the only one to feel he had acted inappropriately.

Although John clearly understood his mistakes, she needed for him to remember them, so that he would be more mindful in future. "Only if you promise not to do it again…" she replied slowly.

John quickly slid off the bed and onto his knees in front of her, grasping onto her hands as he did so. "I swear to you, Teyla. I won't." He gave her a rather timid smile as he looked up at her. "If I do, you can shoot me."

She struggled not to smile, but merely raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. When she thought he looked like he was about to burst, she slowly inclined her head graciously at him.

"Very well then. I forgive you."

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and closed his eyes, and his head dropped down.

As she stared down at his adorably rebellious hair, she couldn't help but wonder how she could have possibly imagined that he was about to end their relationship. How could she have doubted his love for her?

But it did tell her two very important things. That she was even more deeply in love with him that she ever thought possible to love one man.

And that he clearly was prepared to fight for her, no matter what, and that meant the world to her.

"So, I guess we better get to bed, then," murmured John, as he raised his head and slowly got to his feet.

"Yes," she replied quietly, and then sighed as she stood up too.

With the exception of Daniel and Ronon, their relationship was still not yet common knowledge, so they were going to have to sleep in separate rooms. Even though Marie had made up the room right next to John's, it was not the same. And after today's events, she was not looking forward to spending the night alone.

"Well, I will bid you good night then," she said sadly, and then began to move towards the door.

"Teyla? Where are you going?"

She stopped and turned around. "To my room."

John's eyebrows rose and fell, and his small, rather mischievous grin, indicated that he had other ideas. He slowly made his way towards her, and took hold of one of her hands. "I'd rather you didn't."

"But, what about the others?"

John began to lower his head slowly towards her, his eyes totally focussed on her lips. He hovered just above, holding back from the kiss. "Not interested in the others…"

She smiled at his playfulness. "That is not…."

But she did not get a chance to finish her sentence as the warmth from his lips, and the sudden tightening of his arms around her, made all her thoughts suddenly fade away.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Teyla woke to the beautiful sound of birdsong. As she slowly came to, she slowly stretched, feeling the softness of the sheets against her skin as she did so.

She still felt somewhat tired, but it was not through want of sleep. Her entire body felt the warm familiar glow, which always followed a night of lovemaking.

She had been concerned that, considering the traumatic experience of his latest vision, it had been too soon for John. But it had not taken long for him to convince her that he was feeling more…himself.

Indeed, he had continued to 'convince' her for most of the night. Her body still tingled from John's energy, as he had 'shared' himself with her, over and over again.

She smiled, as she became aware of John's gentle breathing beside her, indicating that he continued to sleep.

She opened her eyes and stared up at the high ceiling. Although the heavy curtains were still closed, there was now enough light to see. Teyla had known that the bedroom had indeed been large, but the subtle lighting last night had made the room feel much smaller, more intimate.

As she looked beyond the two mahogany looking posts of the bed, she could truly see that the room was indeed much more spacious, and furnished with yet more colour coordinated furnishings.

Daniel had said that Marie had prepared his old room, so Teyla paid extra attention to it now, and sat up.

There was actually very little to indicate that it was his old room, as there were no signs of him that she knew so well. Though there were books in a bookcase, and a model aircraft on the mantelpiece, there was nothing else to link the two together.

Perhaps he had been gone too long, or his belongings were now elsewhere.

"Morning," came the soft muffled voice from the pillow beside her. She turned to see him watching her with one eye.

She leant back against her pillow, and smiled. "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

John stretched slowly, rolled onto his back and placing his hands behind his head, sighing contentedly as he did so. "Perfect."

"Really?" She moved to lean against her elbow, looking down at him.

He moved his head sideways to look at her, and smiled tenderly. "Really."

She could clearly see that he did look much better, as the colour in his cheeks had returned, and the pain lines around his eyes had completely disappeared. As he had turned onto his back, the sheets had dropped down to around his naval, and Teyla couldn't help that her eyes travelled down to watch his chest slowly rise and fall.

She smiled and allowed herself the luxury of reaching out to stroke the hair over his breastbone. "So," she tried hard not to smile too much, "You do not feel too tired…?"

He continued to look at her for a moment, and then suddenly moved so fast it took her breath away, as she suddenly found herself back down on the pillow, with John leaning over her, grinning.

"No," he murmured softly, and then slowly bent down to kiss her, slow and tenderly. But before she could properly respond, he had lifted up again, his dark hazel eyes staring into hers. She could not imagine a time when looking at him would ever get old, even when they were themselves.

But the day had begun, and Teyla knew that, despite her desire to stay in bed with John, they must get up. "Perhaps we should prepare for the day, before we get caught…"

He grinned mischievously. "Oh, we won't get caught."

"And why is that?"

"Because," he touched her briefly on the end of her nose with his own. "There's a secret door."

"A secret door?"

He slowly sat up. "Yep. This part of the house is pretty old, so there's lots of…secret doors." His grin widened.

"I do not believe you."

"Oh, you don't?" he then moved himself over to his side of the bed, swung his legs over the edge and flung the covers back.

As he made his way around to her side of the bed, she couldn't help but once more admire his form, which was even better without clothes.

He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her out of bed, making her laugh. "John!"

He was behaving so much like he had when she had first met him… playful and enthusiastic. It was so reassuring to see the change, albeit a rather confusing one, considering their current circumstances. But John Sheppard always had a positive attitude on life, no matter what.

"John, what are you doing?"

"Showing you the secret door."

As she too was completely naked, she couldn't help but feel rather vulnerable, as she allowed herself to be pulled over to one side of the room.

Once they had reached the wall, John pulled a large tapestry to one side, and sure enough there was a door. In it, was a key, which John quickly turned and pushed the door open.

She ducked under his arm to peer inside, and sure enough, there was the room that Marie had given to her. Had she known too? Had David told her, or did she just know John that well?

She turned around, and now stood within his arms. "Ye of little faith," he smiled and planted a kiss firmly on her lips.

He was about to draw away, when she had the sudden compulsion to wrap her arms around his neck, holding him there. It didn't take much to convince him, as his arms wrapped around her within seconds.

As they began to feel the familiar stirrings, John began to pull away. "You know, as much as I am gonna hate myself for saying this," he gave her another brief kiss, "but we better go join the others before someone does come to check up on us."

Teyla sighed. "Yes, you are correct."

It was within seconds that a loud knock sounded on John's door, making them both jump.

"Just a minute!" John called out loudly, and together they rushed back into the bedroom to locate all of her clothing, that now lay scattered about the room.

Another loud knock. "I said, just a minute!"

Once Teyla had all her clothes firmly in her arms, she darted straight for the hidden door. John gave her a quick kiss and pulled the heavy tapestry across.

As her door was still open, she decided to remain where she was, hidden behind the heavy material.

John seemed to be grabbing something from a nearby closet, as she heard its door bang shut. Seconds later, she heard the main bedroom door open. "Morning, Daniel. You, er, sleep well?"

"Yes, very much so, thanks. How did _you_ sleep?"

Teyla couldn't help but smile.

"All things considered? Pretty well, actually."

Teyla could hear the smile in Daniel's voice. "Excellent. Well, just so long as you actually managed to get _some_ sleep."

"Daniel," replied John, rather mockingly. "Whatever do you mean?"

Daniel laughed. "You might wanna put some proper clothes on, John. Marie is cooking up some amazing waffles."

"Oh, you should try her French pancakes…."

"Already have."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you and Teyla are the last two to come down, so you might wanna, you know, shake a leg…"

"Ah, yeah, right. Ok, be down in five."

Just as Teyla thought Daniel had left, she heard his voice again.

"Oh, John?"

"Yeah?"

"She might need that."

"What?"

"Her boot. It's under the chair."

"Oh, er, thanks."

"You're welcome, John. See you both in a few…."

With that, Teyla heard the door slowly close, and couldn't help but smile. Although she trusted Daniel implicitly not to speak of their relationship, she knew that they would not be able to hide their relationship for much longer. And for her, that time could not come soon enough.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Daniel couldn't quite manage to remove the grin off his face as he made his way down the stairs.

Although there was no sign of Teyla, the slight flush to John's cheeks and sparkle in his eyes meant only one thing: the guy had not slept on his own.

So that, in turn, meant that they must have worked out what issues they had been having, and this made him both pleased and relieved.

Unfortunately, as he drew closer to the bottom of the stairs he could hear Jack speaking, rather formally, to someone. Before Daniel had a chance to wonder who it was, a rather familiar voice responded, and his heart sank.

"Oh boy, John is NOT gonna like this…"he mumbled quietly, as he jumped down the last two stairs and made his way quickly towards the kitchen.

Sure enough, there stood Jack, mug of coffee in hand, with a man stood in front of him.

"Ah, Daniel, there you are. We have a visitor. You remember James Coalfield, Vice President of PSI?" said Jack, gesturing at the man with his mug, who then turned around. "Mr Coalfield, this is my colleague, Doctor Daniel Jackson.

Coalfield had turned around, who seemed to instantly recognise him. But, unlike last night, his demeanour was very different.

No longer in a suit and tie, James Coalfield was now dressed in red polo shirt, cream pants, and looked as though he was on his way to the golf club rather than the office. He also looked every inch how a Vice President should look: dignified and in control.

Sure enough, he outstretched a hand towards Daniel, as he spoke very formally. "Doctor Jackson."

Daniel couldn't help but glance questioningly at Jack as he shook his hand. "Mr Coalfield."

Coalfield took a step back. "I must apologise for my conduct last night. I am not usually a man to behave in such a way, but John Sheppard and I …."

"What are you doing here, James?" John's sharp voice interrupted him, as he stood in the doorway, with his arms folded across his chest.

Unfortunately, having spent years in the Air Force meant that John was able to get ready in less than five minutes flat. Though he no longer wore his black BDUs, but had found a pale blue shirt and chinos, which made him look very different. His earlier relaxed demeanour had completely disappeared and Daniel could clearly see the stern expression had returned.

Coalfield continued to look every bit the business man, as he regarded John across the room. "I came here to apologise, and I…would like to help, if I can."

"You do?" John asked suspiciously, as he unfolded his arms.

Ronon snorted loudly, and grumbled something too low for anyone to hear.

Coalfield seemed to ignore him, and instead took a tentative step towards John. "Yes."

"So, why the change of heart all of a sudden?" John asked as he wandered almost casually into the room, and over to the pot of coffee.

"I said on the phone that I wanted to help. Anything that concerns the company, and David, concerns me too. So, when you came charging in, demanding access, I wanted answers."

"Which, as I have told you already, I cannot give you," John replied as he took a slow drink of coffee and leant against the counter, regarding him carefully.

"Look, General O'Neill has already explained to me that you needed access because you were following up on a lead. How was I supposed to know that was the reason why?"

"Well, it's not the first time you have jumped to your own conclusions, is it?" John retorted rather sharply.

Coalfield's expression hardened. "I didn't have to draw my own conclusions about _that_, John, and you know it. The facts spoke for themselves."

John actually snorted derisively. "Yeah, though some choose to distort the facts, especially when they don't fit their precious theory."

Daniel frowned hard. Whatever had happened between these two appeared to run deep. Were they referring to something personal or professional that had taken place? It was hard to tell at this point.

Coalfield cleared his throat, and his voice softened. "Look, John, I know that we have history, but we used to be good friends once, didn't we?"

John seemed to relent a little. "We did."

"So, don't you think I have a right to know what's going on? You know, better than anyone, that David is more than just my boss; he's my best friend."

John sighed, and then nodded briefly.

Coalfield gave a sigh of relief. "So, just what exactly are you looking for?"

"Already found it," replied Rodney rather smugly, who was sat at the kitchen table, munching his way through yet more French pancakes.

Coalfield looked quickly from John, to Jack, and then back again. "You actually found something on the servers?"

John considered him carefully before he replied. "You could say that."

"What?"

"Evidence," replied John flatly.

"Of David's kidnappers?"

John paused for a moment. "Possibly."

Coalfield instantly looked anxious. "Does that mean you know where he is?"

John walked past him, and leisurely picked up something off the table.

"John?"

John deliberately put the item of food in his mouth, and made appreciative noises as he chewed. He then turned to Rodney, who was staring at him. "You tried these?" he mumbled, "They're really good."

"John!" Coalfield clearly was getting more frustrated as John continued to ignore his question, as he picked up another.

"Damn it, John, would you just stop?!"

John turned around, and raised one eyebrow. "Stop what?" he replied innocently.

Daniel had seen this kind of behaviour from someone else, who standing not so far away. It was a technique, often used to goad a response during interrogation, and it appeared that John was as good at it as Jack was. Only John was not interrogating him; he was deliberately provoking him.

What the heck was it between these two?

"You know what." Coalfield was clearly beginning to loose his earlier composure. "Just answer the damn question. Do you know where David is or not?"

John just looked at him as he took a seat at the kitchen table, and popped another piece of food in his mouth.

Coalfield then took a deep breath, obviously in an effort to calm himself down, and then leant on the table towards him. Daniel heard Ronon's chair scrape on the floor slightly as he moved it backwards.

"Alright, John. I understand. I came here to apologise and to offer you my help. Obviously I was wrong to think that you would accept either. Clearly neither of us can overlook our…history in order to help David."

Coalfield stared at John for a moment longer, and then stood up. Just as he began to turn towards the door, John sighed, and Daniel saw him glance at Jack questioningly, who nodded.

"Washington," John called out after him.

Coalfield immediately stopped and spun round. "Excuse me?"

"Washington. We have…a lead that indicates that Dave may be in Washington."

Coalfield instantly transformed, and in two strides came back. "How can I help?"

"You…can't."

"But there must be something that I can do? Please. Let me help."

John frowned and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Well," he said slowly, "there might be something…"

"Name it."

"We need to get there ASAP."

Coalfield began to smile. "_That,_ I can help with."

A strange silence followed as the two of them stared at each other for a moment.

"You sure?" John now seemed almost surprised.

"On one condition."

John rolled his eyes. "And that would be….?"

"You keep me informed. Yes, I know you can't tell me much, but please. Let me know when you have found him, and…when you are bringing him home?"

John gave him a slight smile. "Yeah, of course."

Coalfield nodded and then gestured towards the phone that sat on the side. "May I?"

"Be my guest."

With that, Coalfield grabbed the phone and began to dial.

"Er, Sheppard?" Jack looked at him. "What's going on?"

John smiled at him. "Just arranging our transport, sir."

Jack frowned. "Transport? We were going to take a C-130, direct from Travis, just as soon as the damn thing arrives."

"Yes, sir, but the company jet is always on constant standby, and we can fly straight into Dulles Airport, rather than going to Andrews Air Force Base."

"And, the benefit to that is…?"

"Manoeuvrability and speed, Sir."

"Well, I don't know what kinda plane you got, but it's gonna take some to beat the speed of a Hercules…"

John grinned. "Oh, I don't know sir, she can hold her own, plus she can land pretty much anywhere."

"As can a Hercules…"

"Er, guys?" Daniel felt that this conversation was heading in somewhat the wrong direction. "Can we focus here?"

Both Military men looked rather sheepish for a moment, just as Coalfield finished his call, and looked straight at John.

"Ok, John. As usual, she has already been refuelled. You are good to go."

John looked at him for a moment, and his countenance softened slightly. "Thanks, James, I…er, appreciate it."

"Hey, it's the very least I could do." He took a small step towards John. "Look, about…"

John quickly cut him off. "Forget it, James. We all do things we later regret, and sorry never does anything. Let's just put it down to…extreme circumstances and leave it at that."

"But what I said about the facts…"

"James. It's ancient history. Let it go. I know I have."

Coalfield stared at him, and then nodded. "Very well. Good luck. He then held out a hand.

John looked at it for a second, and then shook it. "Thanks, James."

"And remember to call me the moment you know anything…that you can tell me?"

"I will."

With that, James Coalfield began to make his way out, just as Teyla was coming in. The Vice President quickly stood aside to let her past, and then left.

Teyla's face was a picture as she walked hesitantly into the kitchen, and looked straight at John. "Wasn't that…?"

"Yeah, James Coalfield," stated John slowly, "Vice President of PSI, and… my ex-brother in law."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The journey from the Sheppard residence to San Francisco International Airport was a reasonably quick one, but the atmosphere in the limo was intense. Though, it wasn't through anxiety and tension, but anticipation and expectation.

Daniel noticed very quickly that they weren't heading towards the Departures zone, but to where the private jets were kept.

When the car finally pulled up, Greaves got out and instantly went to the side where John was.

"Thanks, Greaves," he said quietly.

"You are welcome, Sir, and good luck."

Once everyone was out, and a few bags were unloaded from the large trunk, they all followed John across the tarmac towards a large hanger.

"Sweet!" said Jack, the moment they stepped inside and Daniel couldn't help but grin.

There stood a rather impressive white aircraft, which looked every bit a company jet. Not being a pilot, he had no idea what it was, but it looked expensive and rather fast.

John approached a couple of airport servicemen, who appeared to be going over their final checks. Jack, of course, couldn't resist and had to follow. And, as he was still wearing his Air Force uniform, the men were quick to stop what they were doing to talk to them.

It wasn't long before John came back over to them. "Ok, guys, we're good to go." With that, he almost quick marched back over to the entrance of the plane, which was already open, and the inbuilt steps had been lowered.

In two easy strides, John had bounded up the five steps, and disappeared inside. The others were quick to follow.

Once inside, Rodney whistled. "Wow, Sheppard, this is some plane…"

John didn't reply, as he was busy securing some of the bags into nearby compartments. Jack had finally managed to tear himself from whatever he had been talking about to the servicemen, and had followed them in. Although he was a seasoned pilot himself, Daniel noticed that Jack also looked rather impressed by the plush interior.

"What's it called?" asked Rodney again, who was still staring at the plush interior and the large pale cream leather seats.

"It's a Cessna Citation 680 Sovereign," said John briefly, as he quickly checked the seatbelts of each of the nine seats before they all sat down. He looked over at Rodney, and the tiniest of smiles appeared. "Still none of the wiser, huh?"

"Just how much would one of these cost?" Rodney, who had not taken a seat, continued his exploration of the cabin; opening compartments, and leaning down to test the deep cushions of one of the chairs.

"Oh, about 18," replied John casually, which caused Rodney to stop and stare at him.

"18 what?"

"18 million dollars, give or take…"

"I'm sorry, how much?"

John gave him a look.

"You sure you're ok flying one of these? I mean, that's pretty expensive…"

John raised an eyebrow. "An F16 costs around $17 million. Besides, I can think of a few other craft I've been flying for the last five years that could be considered virtually priceless, and you haven't batted an eye…"

Daniel couldn't help but smile whenever he saw Rodney McKay actually become speechless.

"Just sit down, Rodney," John said as he gently nudged him towards a nearby chair.

"But, can't I sit up front?"

Daniel's grin widened. The guy had just gotten so used to sitting in the cockpit he obviously couldn't help himself now.

John looked at him for a moment, and then grinned. "Well, I don't know, maybe General O'Neill would rather be up there…"

Rodney turned quickly to look at Jack, who had actually just sat down and was checking out the hidden compartments around him. He looked up and just shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he didn't actually care where he sat.

"Ok," John replied slowly, "but only if you promise not to touch anything. This isn't a puddle jumper you know…"

Rodney looked hurt. "I'm not an idiot, Sheppard. I do know the difference…"

"Well, alright then. Yes, Rodney, you may sit up front."

"Yes!" and promptly headed for the cockpit.

"Kids eh?" said Daniel, chuckling slightly.

John grinned, shaking his head slightly, and went to close the hatch.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

There wasn't much that could impress Doctor Rodney McKay these days, but the level of tech in the cockpit of the PSI jet certainly did, even if it was just an Earth aircraft.

As he sat in the co-pilot's chair, wearing the headset, he suddenly felt like he was a kid again, having just been granted the extreme privilege of going up to visit the pilot. Although, what he saw in front of him now was not how he remembered a commercial cockpit to look like.

This flight deck had state of the art tech: and there were no dials anymore, just buttons and switches, and more buttons.

Four large LCD screens sat squarely in the forward panel. John, who sat beside him, continued to touch the screens, as he seemed to be running through his usual pre-flight checks. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be displaying altitude, airspeed, navigation, and something else that Rodney couldn't begin to guess at.

Between John and himself was another panel, with yet more buttons and two more screens. There were two rather important looking levers and something that looked like a handbrake, which looked so tempting to pull, that Rodney quickly folded his arms tightly.

John noticed him do so, and broke into a smile. "Just make sure you don't touch the pedals, Rodney."

Rodney quickly looked down, and sure enough, there were actual pedals by his feet.

"Pedals?"

"Yeah, they're Rudder pedals."

"Ok." Rodney tucked his feet underneath him. "These are some joysticks…" he commented, staring at the large stick in front of him.

"They're called Control Wheels," replied John gently, as he resumed his flight checks.

There was no trace of sarcasm in his voice, merely the sound of patient instruction. But then, this was where John Sheppard felt most at home…this was at the core of who he was.

Just then, John pressed a button, and began to speak into his headset, his voice automatically taking on the tone that seemed to be universal for all pilots, no matter what or where you flew.

"San Francisco Ground, Cessnaniner-seven-eight-Charlie-Papa, request departure clearance."

Rodney heard the Control Tower respond through his own headset.

"_Cessna__niner-seven-eight-Charlie-Papa_**,**_ standby…I have your clearance when ready to copy."_

"Ready, Cessna niner-seven-eight-Charlie-Papa".

"_Cessna__978CP read back correct – call ready for start-up and pushback."_

"Wilco Cessna978CP". John leant forward and pressed one of the touch screen displays.

Rodney looked quizzically at him. "Wilco?"

John looked back at him, and covered his microphone with one hand. "Will Comply…"

"Oh, so no, 'Roger that' then?"

John actually grinned. "No, Rodney. 'Roger' actually means 'I understand'."

"Oh," Rodney replied, rather surprised. "I always thought it meant 'yes'…"

"Only on TV." John quickly leant forward and spoke again, only this time to the Control Tower. **"**TowerCessna978CP ready for startup and pushback."

"_Cessna__978CP startup and pushback approved, advise ready for taxi"_

"Start and Push approved, Wilco Cessna978CP."

"Pushback?" murmured Rodney quietly, and john again covered his microphone.

"Aircraft is moving in the area, assisted by a tow vehicle…"

With that, Rodney noticed a small tug had appeared in front of the plane.

John continued with his extremely strange conversation with the Control Tower, but Rodney couldn't help continue to stare at his friend.

He knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but feel rather impressed. Although he had been flying with him, admittedly in alien aircraft, for over five years he had almost forgotten that John Sheppard was first and foremost a fully trained United States Air Force Pilot, and not just a rather special guy with a rather special gene.

John truly was in his element right now; going through the complex procedures as though it was as natural to him as breathing. Where he had been positively exuding pent up energy yesterday, he now seemed calm, centred and focussed once again. Just like the John Sheppard he was before…everything started to change.

Rodney began to once again look around the state of the art cockpit of the very expensive plane that John was about to fly the 2410 miles to Dulles International Airport.

At that moment John started the engines. Whatever they were, they sounded powerful, and more like a supersonic jet than belonging to a private aircraft.

John pressed a button, and his voice came over the speaker system.

"Ok folks, welcome aboard Sheppard Airlines: your non-stop flight to Dulles International Airport. Out flight time is 5 hours 23 minutes, and will be flying at an altitude of 45 thousand feet, at a ground speed of 848 kilometres per hour. We will shortly be taking off, so please make sure your seat backs are in the upright position and your seatbelts are correctly fastened. Thank you."

John then turned to look at him, and grinned, and Rodney couldn't help but beam back at him.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The sound of the Control Tower in his ear made Rodney jump, as they sat on the runway, waiting for clearance to take off.

"_Cessna __niner-seven-eight-Charlie-Papa cleared for takeoff, wind calm."_

"Cleared for takeoff, copy the winds, Cessna 978CP," John's official pilot voice came through his earphones.

John then pressed another few buttons, but Rodney ceased to watch what he was doing and looked rather excitedly out of the window.

He had always enjoyed take off the most.

The powerful engines began to build until they were almost howling, almost as though John was revving them at a race start line, and the craft seemed to shake with anticipation.

John then pushed the throttle forward and the plane began to slowly move. Rodney couldn't help but think he was going too slowly but then, what did he know?

Sure enough, the engines began to get even louder, and the wheels seemed to be rumbling even more noisily across the tarmac. As John began to build up the speed, Rodney felt the raw power begin to force him back into his seat, and he glanced out of the side window to watch the runway becoming more of a blur. He also didn't fail to notice that the wings were bouncing rather precariously up and down; which always had unsettled him.

Just when Rodney thought that they would soon run out of runway, John pulled back on the yoke, and then there was….silence as the nose of the plane rose up into the air. Lift off!

Rodney had to fight hard not to cry out, Yeee haaaaa!

**To be Continued…**

**Post script:**

A quieter chapter for you and no cliff hanger in sight!

So, now you know just who James Coalfield is….

I wanted to do John the justice he deserves as a seasoned pilot. But all the flight-speak proved too taxing for my poor brain, so please excuse all and any inaccuracies.

Oh, and check out some pictures of the Sovereign to see just what our friends are flying in. Nice!

**Coming up….**Washington.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much to June Odyssey, for once again creating my story cover!

And I'd also like to give Firedew a big hug for continuing to come to my rescue when I need it. You are the best, hon!

I am so sorry it's taken so long to post: I had some serious issues with this particular chapter before I was happy with it.

The pace of this story is about to pick up, big time!

I hope it was worth the wait….

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 6**

Daniel had never considered himself as a pessimist. He liked to think that he was more of a realist; a man that dealt with facts and hard evidence.

Considering the number of missions he had been on over the years, which he surmised must be in the hundreds by now, he knew that no matter how peaceful or straight forward they appeared to be, they always had the habit of going sideways.

So, as he sat in the back of yet another non-descript van, full of marines and weapons, he couldn't help but feel that this particular mission might not go according to plan.

On the surface, it was a straightforward task: they arrive at the IOA Headquarters, find Carl Strom, arrest him, and bring him back to The Pentagon for questioning.

It was almost too simple. But that wasn't the only thing that was making Daniel feel uneasy.

Apart from the fact that they were about to make a very military show of force in an incredibly public area, the other unsettling matter was John Sheppard.

It had been little after 8pm when they finally touched down at Dulles International Airport. From there they had gone straight to The Pentagon; the Headquarters of Homeworld Security, and Jack's place of work.

Once they had discussed their tactics for the following morning, Jack had arranged for them to stay in corporate lodgings, which was standard procedure for all visiting military personnel. Jack, however, had asked Daniel to stay at his apartment. Though it was nice to spend time catching up, it unfortunately had meant that Daniel had no idea what had happened after they had parted company.

As far as Daniel knew, John's visions had occurred every day for the past four days, so it was only logical to assume that he should have experienced another. So had he?

The visions had become stronger and more vivid each time, until the last one; which had appeared to be a direct link to David Sheppard. So if there hadn't been one, what did that mean?

There had been little time to ask him, or the others, earlier that morning. Though Daniel had watched him carefully for signs, he could not tell either way as John appeared to be so focussed on the mission.

The truck suddenly lurched to a stop, indicating that they had arrived at their destination: IOA Headquarters.

The moment the back doors were yanked open, Daniel squinted at the sudden bright morning sunshine, and regretted not having worn his sunglasses.

As he looked up, he saw his own reflection in John's own aviators. John then took a step back, and the marines began to file out, like peas being shelled from a pod.

As Daniel clambered out, he couldn't help but gaze up at the massive building before them. He had been here many times over the years, and the architecture never ceased to impress him.

For it was not just the residence of the IOA Headquarters.

The Ronald Reagan Building was the largest governmental structure in the Washington Metropolitan Area. It was also home to the International Trade Centre, the US Agency for International Development and the US Customs and Border Protection, amongst many others.

Little did they know, thought Daniel ironically, just _how_ 'international' the country truly had become….

Though it looked as though it was much older, it was actually only built in the 1990s. Its dramatic architecture was distinct; with its traditional Indiana limestone walls, and cone-shaped glass skylight in its 170-foot-diameter Atrium, made it one of the biggest tourist attractions in the area. That, and its plentiful restaurants in the Food Court, which offered a diverse range of eateries, not to mention the Woodrow Wilson Plaza, which would regularly hold outdoor concerts.

This meant that, even at 9am, there were already crowds of people heading into the building, and it didn't take long for their presence to be noticed. Though Daniel was sure it was not just that they were all dressed in full tactical gear, which made the public stop and stare.

They were all armed.

Many were beginning to point and gape, and parents pulled their children closer, as Daniel and the others followed John towards the entrance.

As they drew closer to the doors John gave the hand signal to the marines, who instantly divided into teams of two, and moved down both sides of the building. They were to cover the exits, just in case Strom decided to run.

The net was closing in.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

There was little time to take in the sheer scale and beauty of the place, as they had quickly moved towards one of the elevators. Which was just as well, Daniel thought to himself, as their presence was continuing to draw a considerable amount of attention.

Luckily, John had made short work of explaining their presence to the security guards, who had approached them as soon as they had entered the building. Having shown them his Air Force ID, he had explained that it was a matter of National Security, at the highest level, and their orders were to seize their man without interference. The Guards quickly took them through the Security checkpoint.

The IOA offices were on the upper level of the building, and the elevator brought them right outside the entrance to the Trade Information Centre. Beside that was another glass door.

It looked innocuous enough, and with no name to identify the company, it was easy for someone to assume that it was also part of the same office.

Beyond the glass door was the reception area, with its bland grey sofas and pot plants, and a table with various magazines. All gave the impression that it was just another office.

John activated his radio, and spoke quietly. "Major, you in position?"

"_Affirmative, Sir,"_ came the crisp reply through their own headsets.

"Ok. Standby. We're moving in."

"_Copy that, sir."_

The moment they entered a dark haired receptionist looked up from her desk.

"May I…help you?"

Just as John was about to reply, two men emerged from one of the side rooms.

"We will be in touch, Mr Armstrong," said a rather balding man, as they shook hands. As they did so, the bald man turned his head slightly and took a fleeting look in their direction, only to do a double take.

"Oh my God! Colonel Sheppard!"

"Mr Coolidge."

"What….what are you doing here? I thought…." He glanced briefly at his companion. Whoever Mr Armstrong was, he clearly had no idea who or what was going on, but their appearance and firearms were clearly unsettling, and he made a hasty exit.

James Coolidge instantly looked nervous; glancing at the receptionist, as he began to cautiously approach them.

"So, what brings you to Washington?"

"We're here to see Carl Strom."

Coolidge looked meaningfully at each of them. "With weapons?"

"Just a precaution."

"Against what, exactly?"

"We are here to take him in."

"On what grounds?"

"It's classified."

Coolidge let out a rather nervous laugh. "Well, in case you had forgotten, I do have…"

"Believe me, Mr Coolidge, it's not high enough." John's easy going tone had hardened slightly.

Coolidge stared at him, obviously remembering the last time he had seen John.

"So," John rested his arms nonchalantly on top of his P90. "Where can I find him?"

"He…" Coolidge trailed off, glancing nervously at Ronon, who had taken a step towards him.

"Yes?"

"He…isn't here," Coolidge blurted out, as Mitchell began to wander about, looking down the various corridors that led off from the Reception area.

John tilted his head to one side. "Really?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now, you wouldn't be lying to me, would you, Mr Coolidge?"

"No."

"So, why don't I believe you?" There was a deeper, more sinister edge to John's voice as he shifted his P90, and Coolidge's eyes widened slightly.

"He isn't here, Colonel." Coolidge now sounded indignant, though his eyes betrayed his continuing sense of unease.

John regarded him for a moment longer and then activated his radio.

"Move in, Major."

"_Copy that, sir."_

John then nodded to Ronon and Mitchell, who promptly headed past the wide eyed Receptionist, and made their way down separate corridors.

John had given the order to close in the moment Strom's whereabouts came into question.

Predictably, their presence was beginning to draw attention, as workers were starting to appear: gathering in small groups, whispering.

John had noticed it too, and glanced towards the room Coolidge had just emerged from. "I think this…conversation needs to be…more private." He gestured towards the room. "Shall we?"

Coolidge hesitated; clearly uncomfortable at the thought of going in there with John. "I don't think that will be necessary."

"I'm sorry. Did I give you the impression that you had a choice?" John walked past him and flung open the door. "After you, Mr Coolidge."

Coolidge glanced once more towards the Receptionist, and then walked warily inside, and John followed, as did Teyla and Rodney. Danielturned and gave the rather shocked looking receptionist a reassuring smile and then also went in. He quietly closed the door, and leant on it nonchalantly, folding his arms across his chest as he did so.

The office appeared to be some kind of small meeting room; with a square table in the middle and four chairs around it. John pulled out the chair that was the furthest from the door.

"Take a seat, Mr Coolidge."

Coolidge slowly sat down as John quickly surveyed the area for hidden cameras and then closed the blinds.

He then began to move very deliberately back to the table, as if he was trying to increase the tension even further. He slowly unclipped his P90 from his vest, placed it very carefully on the table, and then eased himself into the chair opposite Coolidge.

John leant forward and linked his fingers together on the table, then took a deep breath and, for several incredibly long minutes, just looked at him.

Coolidge shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze. "What?"

"So, where can I find Carl Strom?"

Silence.

John took a deep breath, and his lips tightened to a fine line. "Where… is he?"

"Why do you want to arrest him?" James Coolidge sounded indignant.

John ignored the question. "Tell me where I can find him."

"Not until you tell me why you want him."

John took a deep breath. "Let's just say…we have a few questions that we need to ask him."

"About what?"

"Look, we can either do this the easy way or…" John paused, "we can do it the hard way. It's your choice. Personally, I always prefer easy …But, that's just me." He then leant forward, and the tone of his voice hardened.

"Either way, Mr Coolidge, you _will_ tell me where I can find him."

Daniel felt the atmosphere suddenly become heavy; like static in a storm.

Coolidge stared at him more carefully. "Paris."

John frowned. "He's where?"

"Mr Strom is in Paris," Coolidge repeated slowly, as if he was talking to an idiot.

John's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly recovered his stoic expression. "Paris. Doing what?"

Silence.

"You are beginning to try my patience, Mr Coolidge. What is he doing in Paris?"

Coolidge sat back in his chair, and folded his arms indifferently. "He had a business meeting with Monsieur LaPierre."

"Really?" John didn't sound convinced. "Never heard of video conferencing then, huh?"

Coolidge didn't respond.

John took a deep breath and sat leisurely back in the chair, though his concentrated gaze didn't waver.

"So, Strom is in Paris…" John repeated again, slowly.

"Yes." Coolidge now sounded bored, though Daniel knew it was a cover.

"Why?"

"I told you…"

"I know, you said…a business meeting. Concerning what?"

"He didn't say."

"C'mon, Mr Coolidge, you don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

"To be perfectly honest, I don't really care what you believe. It's the truth."

Daniel inwardly flinched. He knew that Coolidge was well aware that John had powers, so why the man was to blatantly standing up to him, was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

On the face of it, it was entirely plausible that Strom had gone to Paris on business, as the French IOA office was based there. But something was clearly telling John that Coolidge was lying. Had he had a vision after all, or was it purely his 'spidey senses' that made John continue to push the man harder?

Either way, Daniel wasn't sure how long it would take before John decided to take this interview to the next level.

Sure enough, within seconds, the heavy atmosphere slowly began to change.

One thing Daniel did know for sure: that had been right. Nothing was ever as straight forward as it seemed.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

John looked down at his hands, and actually gave a small chuckle, which seemed to throw Coolidge completely.

"You know, these past few weeks have been pretty crazy. I was planning on finding out just what my…'powers' do, but, what with everything that's been going on, I just haven't had the time."

John looked slowly up and his smile instantly disappeared. "So, who knows what I might do…by accident…"

"Are you…threatening me?"

Rodney noticed that the man's bravado was not supported by his expression.

Rodney had seen John use this technique before; though usually it was done by two people, John seemed to be able to swing from good cop to bad cop like some schizophrenic, which always left the interrogated constantly trying to guess what was coming next.

But, now that John had 'powers', the method was even more effective, and Coolidge was beginning to lose his cool facade.

But what John did next, completely threw Rodney. John slowly closed his eyes; as if he was meditating. What was he doing?

Coolidge was also unnerved by John's rather odd behaviour, and he glanced quickly at Daniel, who merely smiled and shrugged.

John then began to breathe deeply, and Rodney felt the pressure in the room increase even further, to the point where his ears began to pop. He swallowed hard, and his hearing cleared. John seemed to be somehow channelling his energies, but to do what?

John then slowly began to open his eyes, and looked straight at Coolidge, who gasped loudly.

Rodney saw the reason why: John's eyes were once more glowing with his bright blue energy. Though not as bright as when he had had the vision…

"You are lying, James Coolidge." He spoke the words slowly, like a judge issuing his verdict. "Strom isn't in Paris. Is he?"

Coolidge opened his mouth, and closed it, like a fish gulping for air.

John leant menacingly towards him. "Is he with my brother?"

Coolidge shifted uncomfortably under the powerful gaze, and looked quickly away.

"Look at me," the tone of command was unmistakable, and yet, Coolidge still refused to do so.

"I said, _look _at me!" John's voice was still low and menacing, but it was now heavy with his energy. Coolidge reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet the disconcerting blue of John's.

"Where… is… my brother?"

Rodney held his breath as he continued to watch John stare at the man. It was as if John was virtually boring through to the man's very soul.

"You _will_ tell me, Coolidge."

James Coolidge suddenly winced, and rubbed at his forehead. "What…are you doing, Colonel?" he asked slowly.

John did not reply, but continued to stare at him.

Coolidge began to frown, which turned into a grimace, and he held his head in one hand. "Stop it, Colonel," he murmured painfully.

Rodney glanced quickly at Daniel, who was also frowning. What sort of power was John using to cause such a reaction?

"Then tell me what I want to know…" The electricity in the room seemed to pulse as John spoke each word.

"But…I've already told you. He's in Paris…" Coolidge grimaced harder, and held his head with both hands. "Colonel…Stop!"

John frowned, and once more turned his head on one side. "He _was_ in Paris. But he isn't now, is he?"

Rodney felt the pressure rise higher, making his ears pop and he swallowed hard again.

"What do you want from me?!" cried Coolidge, who was undoubtedly in some considerable pain now.

John slowly rose to his feet, and towered over him. "The _truth_!"

Rodney knew the harder, more ruthless side of John Sheppard only too well; the soldier that would take no prisoners and that would stop at almost nothing to achieve his mission.

But this? This was a whole new deeper, darker side to him… They had absolutely no idea what powers he had, or what he was truly capable of.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

James Coolidge gasped loudly, and held his head more tightly. "Please! Stop!"

John stared unrelentingly at the now hunched figure before him; his unblinking blue eyes still glowing as he continued to unleash his energies.

"Then tell me…."

John must have eased off a little, as Coolidge suddenly looked up, and his blood shot eyes revealed the true depth of his torment. He panted hard and his skin now shone with perspiration. His expression was a mixture of pain, fear and anger. "You are too late!"

John frowned slightly. "Too late?" His frown instantly disappeared and his expression intensified. "Too late for what, exactly?"

Coolidge continued to pant. "You… will never reach him in time."

Teyla's heart almost stopped beating.

"What…have you…done?" John whispered. "Where is my brother?"

James Coolidge did not reply, which only provoked John's temper to rise.

"Answer me!"

The sudden volume made everyone in the room flinch, yet Coolidge remained stubbornly silent.

John then moved so quickly, that it took everyone by surprise, as he grabbed hold of Coolidge, and pulled him so hard out of the chair, the man had to struggle to get his legs underneath him. John then marched him rapidly backwards until he crashed into the wall.

"Take your hands off me!" Coolidge was fighting against the iron grip, but to no avail.

"Don't make me do this, Coolidge," John growled menacingly. "Don't make me use my powers…" He then gave him a sinister smile. "I could really do without the guilt."

Their radios suddenly clicked into life.

"_Sheppard, this is Mitchell, come in?"_

John growled, let go and stepped back. Coolidge gasped and slowly slid down the wall to the floor.

John once more closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths, as he tried to calm himself down.

"_Sheppard..."_

John slowly opened his eyes, which Teyla was somewhat relieved to see had returned back to their hazel colour, and activated his radio.

"This is Sheppard, go ahead."

"_Well, it looks like Strom isn't here after all…" _

John glared at Coolidge, who was still sat on the floor. "I figured as much."

"_Yeah, according to his Personal Assistant, he apparently had a rather urgent meeting to attend…" _

John took another deep calming breath. "I heard that too. Any idea where?"

"_Yeah, though you're not gonna like it…."_

"Mitchell…."

"_England."_

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

There were times when Daniel just wished that, for once, he would be proved wrong. But here they were, about to head back to the Pentagon, with the wrong man they were hoping to question.

He couldn't begin to fathom why Carl Strom was in England. But, from what Coolidge had said, he was definitely with David Sheppard. But what had Coolidge meant by being 'too late'?

Perhaps, after spending some time in a Pentagon holding cell, it would loosen the man's tongue, with a little help from John.

What Daniel had just witnessed had raised a whole bunch of questions, but all that would have to wait.

John led the way back towards the entrance of the building, closely followed by Rodney and Teyla, and Daniel walked beside Mitchell. Behind them was James Coolidge, who was flanked by four marines, and Ronon took their six.

Coolidge had been demanding answers, as well as a phone call to his lawyer, until John had spoken a few chosen words quietly in his ear. He was now silent as they continued their way across the massive hall.

"John!?"

A woman's voice cried out, and Daniel saw John's pace falter slightly for a moment, but then resumed his original speed.

"John Sheppard!"

John instantly froze, causing the rest of them to immediately do the same. Daniel glanced around them, but couldn't see who had called out his name. So instead, he moved towards John, who was staring down at the floor.

"Damn it," he murmured quietly. He looked extremely uncomfortable.

"John, what's wrong?"

He still didn't look up, but was frowning. "You know I was married before, right?"

Daniel frowned. "Yes. Why?"

John lifted his head, quickly placed his aviators back on, squared his shoulders and then turned around. "Here she comes."

Daniel turned and saw a woman quickly making her way towards them through the crowds. Carrying a briefcase, she was dressed in a formal dress suit, with high heels and long dark hair that fell around her shoulders like a waterfall. She was truly stunning.

"John! I thought it was you!"

As she drew closer, she instantly took in the presence of the marines, and especially their guns, and her pace slowed.

"Major, take him to the truck," John ordered quickly.

"Yes Sir".

Nancy stood back as the small group hurried past, and John cleared his throat.

"Nancy. Listen, I…can't really talk right now…"

"So I see."

The way she responded to him clearly indicated her familiarity with the nature of his work, as well as his secrets, as she did not push the matter further.

John shifted his position slightly, clearly uncomfortable, though Daniel wondered how much of it was because of his recent use of his power rather than meeting his ex wife.

She then seemed to loose some of her easy demeanour, and stepped closer to John, which made him look even more wary.

"John, is there any news?"

Obviously she had heard of her ex-brother in law's sudden disappearance.

John's silence earned him a rather calculated stare from his ex-wife. "Please, John, you know much I care about David…."

"Nothing yet," he replied bluntly.

"Oh." She bit at her lower lip as she looked down. "I thought you might…."

"We're… working on it."

Her eyes snapped back to his face, and then glanced at the others. "So that's you are here?"

As she looked at John's companions, her eyes widened slightly when she saw Ronon. "We have met before haven't we?"

John quickly intervened. "Yeah, at Dad's wake." He hurried on. "Look, I'm sorry, Nancy, but we really need to get going."

"So, does that mean you have a lead on David's whereabouts?"

John's lips tightened but remained silent.

"C'mon, John. It doesn't take a genius to see that you have just taken someone into custody…"

Although her tone had been lowered, almost conspiratorially, John still grimaced at her rather public statement. He took a step towards her. "Look, Nance, I can't tell you, ok?"

She stared at him, and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Really?" Her tone had hardened. "Just like Project Archetype?"

Daniel knew that name from somewhere….but for the life of him he couldn't place how, when or why.

Whatever the connection, it seemed to have an effect on John, as he once again relented. "All I can say is… that he is alive, and I swear to you that I will bring him home."

She stared at him, as he looked back at her. Their age old way of communicating was clearly apparent: Silence.

Daniel suddenly felt the need to break up this rather unexpected reunion, and politely cleared his throat.

"Er, John, we really aught not to keep Jack waiting…"

John nodded, but still looked at Nancy, who smiled painfully at him.

"Be careful, John."

He managed to give her a wry smile. "You know me..."

"Yeah, that's the problem..."

John sighed.

Nancy hesitantly placed a hand on his arm. "Call me, ok? You know how to reach me."

John nodded and then watched her leave.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"I cannot believe that was your wife!" exclaimed Rodney loudly.

They were all sat in Jack's office, waiting for him to finish his previous meeting. This unfortunately meant that John was about to get a serious grilling from his friend.

"_Ex-_wife, Rodney," replied John, rather tightly as he glanced towards Teyla, who sat in another chair.

Thankfully, Daniel saw her smile reassuringly at him, and John seemed to relax a little.

"Even so, Sheppard, she's….well, she's stunning! How the hell did you manage to let her go?"

"Rodney, can we not talk about this now?" John sounded tired.

At that very moment, the office door opened and Jack strode in. Both Mitchell and John instantly stood up, and Jack gestured for them to sit back down as he wandered around to his office chair.

"Ok," Jack leant forward on his desk, linking his fingers together as he looked straight at John. "Report, Colonel."

John sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Strom is apparently in England, sir. We have arrested James Coolidge, on the grounds that he…appears to know more than he is letting on."

"Don't they always?"

"Yes sir. He said that," John grimaced slightly, "we were too late."

"Too late. Too late for what?"

"I...am not sure sir, but I believe he was referring to my brother."

"Well, that's just downright unhelpful…"

"Yes sir."

"So, why England?"

"Apparently he has gone there on a 'business meeting'," John made air quotes with his fingers.

"Yeah, right." Jack obviously didn't believe that either.

"Did Coolidge give any indication as to what _type_ of business meeting it was?"

"No sir."

Jack rubbed his chin slowly, and then looked straight at Daniel.

_Oh, here we go! _

"Daniel. Thoughts?"

Daniel couldn't help but sigh heavily. Why did jack always think he knew all the answers? His thoughts were still very much on what he had witnessed in the IOA office…

He frowned. "Well," he began slowly, "the only time England has played a part in anything Ancient related was when we were trying to track down the Sangraal."

"Merlin," said Mitchell, grimacing slightly, and Daniel knew he was instantly remembering his battle with the Black Knight.

"Yes," Daniel continued, "but I don't see how the Arthurian legends would relate to anything that Strom would be involved in. But I can certainly look into it."

"You do that, Daniel," Jack then looked back at John. "So, you er, had any more….?"

"Visions?" said John quietly, and Jack nodded.

John looked disheartened. "No."

"I thought that they were happening pretty much every day." Jack had clearly remembered their conversation last night about the matter.

"Yes sir, they were."

"So, nothing? Not even…a glimmer of one?"

John grimaced. "No sir. Nothing."

Jack looked at Daniel, who shook his head slightly. John didn't need to hear what they had concluded.

Jack tried a different tack. "Have you had a chance to try to connect to David?"

John's lips tightened. "I…not yet, sir."

Daniel knew what he meant to say; that he didn't know how. If only Brother Benedict would help! Perhaps he needed to take a trip to Atlantis, and see if he could somehow persuade him to help John.

"Sir?" John sounded hesitant.

"Sheppard."

"I need to get to England, the quickest way possible."

Jack frowned. "You mean you want to beam down?"

"Yes sir. It would take too long to fly there, and the Jumper is still at the SGC so…."

Jack ran a hand through his hair as he sat back in his chair regarding him carefully. "I dunno, Sheppard."

"Sir, we are running out of time." His voice matched his dark expression. "I…don't know how much longer my brother has got…" he faded out, and looked down at his hands in his lap.

Jack's brow furrowed, and Daniel's heart went out to John.

He may now be the owner of Atlantis, with powers of pre-ascended Ancient, but the guy continued to seek authorisation and follow orders like any true Air Force Officer.

Jack sighed. "Alright, Sheppard, let me make a call, and I'll see what I can do."

Daniel wasn't entirely sure who he was planning to call, as technically Jack did have the authorisation to make that decision to use the Asgard beaming technology. Perhaps it was because John was beaming into a foreign country….

John's expression eased slightly, though he still looked pensive. "Thank you, Sir."

"In the meantime, I want you, Daniel, to do a bit of digging into why Strom might be in England."

Daniel nodded, and Jack turned to look at Rodney.

"Did you get a chance to find out more about the 'Fishing' software?"

Daniel tried not to smile as Rodney huffed. "It's called 'FinFisher', and no. We didn't exactly get a chance."

"Ok. Well, Doctor, I suggest that you head back over to the IOA Headquarters, and start finding out just what they were doing with the data they downloaded."

Rodney frowned and looked over at John, and Daniel knew why. He wasn't entirely comfortable at the thought of being split from his team.

"Don't worry, McKay. Sheppard won't leave without you." Jack was mocking him, though very light heartedly.

Daniel had half expected Rodney to give one of his terse replies, but rather surprisingly, he didn't. "Ok then."

Jack then looked back at John, who was still looking at his hands.

"In the meantime, Colonel, I think we have a few questions that need asking of our newest resident."

John looked quickly up at him, and Daniel thought he could see the slightest trace of blue once again.

"Just make sure there's no blood shed, ok?"

John gave him a rather menacing smile. "Oh, there won't be, Sir. I can promise you that."

"Good." He looked at everyone in the room, and raised his eyebrows. "And you are all still here because….?"

With that, everyone stood up and left to begin their various tasks.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Rodney would never openly admit it. But right now, as he continued to plough the massive amounts of data at the IOA Headquarters, he couldn't help but miss the quiet presence of one Dr Radek Zelenka.

The task was huge, and at first he didn't quite know where to start. So he chose to focus on locating just who had been receiving the data. That hadn't actually been that hard to trace, seeing as he had an idea where to start when he had been going over the data he had obtained from PSI.

User 'PCN1456' had received every single transmission. So what was this person doing with it all and who was it?

He grunted the moment he saw the name appear on the screen. "Figures."

So what was he doing with it? He seemed to be paying particular interest to one folder, as the database showed the number of times the files had been accessed: the financial records.

Rodney frowned, instantly annoyed with himself. He hadn't so much as overlooked them, as disregarded them, as he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. Well, apart from the rather large figures…

So what was so interesting about them?

He double checked the database for the record that was accessed the most. It turned out to be the financial statements relating to an offshore account in Switzerland. Tax avoidance?

No, surely not….

He checked the date. Ok, time to widen the search a little.

He quickly wrote a short utility program to extract all the entries that related to that date, and hit enter, and then sat back in his chair.

With all the millions of lines of code and entries, he had a feeling that this would take some time.

He just hoped it wouldn't take too long, as none of them had much of that; Especially David Sheppard.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

So why was Strom in England?

Daniel's initial thoughts had naturally been drawn to the Arthurian Legend, as Merlin's ancient devices had always proved to be rather powerful to say the least.

But somehow that theory didn't seem to fit. He didn't know why. It just 'felt' wrong.

So, Daniel once again turned to the internet, and sat looking at the screen for a moment.

He then placed his hands on the keyboard and typed in '**England**.'

Ok. He would need to narrow the search parameters somewhat!

Bearing in mind that John had only left the Milky way a couple of days ago, and David had been taken so quickly, maybe….

He typed in '**2009'.**

Without even hesitating, he added the words, '**ancient'** and '**finds'**.

The moment he pressed 'Search', and the results displayed, he took in a sudden sharp intake of breath.

"Oh my…"

He could have kicked himself. How could he not have remembered this?! It had only happened a few months ago too. He was definitely loosing his edge!

He clicked on the first link, and quickly began to scroll down the front page of the website. The more he read, the faster he read. He glanced at the pictures….and one in particular especially caught his eye. He leant closer to the screen.

"No, it can't be…"

Well, it certainly damn well looked like it!

He quickly hit the print button and shot out of his chair to stand by the printer.

For a laser printer, it was taking an incredibly long time to print. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!"

The moment it spat the pages out, he swiped them up and quickly headed back towards Jack's office.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Would you just stop?"

Daniel wasn't even aware that he was rapidly tapping the end of his pencil on the table until Jack glared at him.

He placed the pencil down. "Sorry."

Rodney had just arrived back, and was making his way through Security to Jack's office. John and the others were also on their way up from the Holding Cells.

But Daniel's recent findings were making him feel incredibly edgy, and he just couldn't sit still. He stood up and began to walk around the room, looking at all the various certificates and photographs that Jack had deemed 'worthy' enough to put up on display.

He couldn't help but smile as he noticed one in particular, and picked up the frame. It was of the four of them: Jack, Sam, Teal'c and himself. Though they weren't dressed in their usual SG1 uniforms, but wore jeans and t-shirts, and even Sam was wearing a particularly pretty summer dress. They had set the camera to automatically take the shot, so the photo had captured a more casual moment, as none of them were actually even facing the camera.

He remembered the day like it was yesterday. It was one of the many times they had all gone back to Jack's cabin, for some well earned R & R. After spending the afternoon fishing, in his lake that apparently had no fish in it, they had tried to eat the rather burnt BBQ offerings. They were all used to Jacks rather thorough BBQ skills, but the beer and the company had been perfect.

"Did I miss anything?!" Rodney said as he burst into the room, and then stopped short when he realised his friends hadn't arrived yet.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Why don't you come in, McKay?"

After closing the door, Rodney did just that and placed his borrowed tablet down on the desk and pulled up a chair. "So where…?"

At that very moment a polite knock sounded on the door.

"Come," Jack looked at McKay meaningfully as the door opened.

John walked in, closely followed by Teyla, Ronon and Mitchell.

"Ok, take a seat people."

Thankfully Jack had thought to bring in a few more chairs, and everyone sat down.

Jack looked straight at John, who was still looking tired.

"So, any luck with questioning Coolidge?"

"Not…exactly, sir."

"No?"

Mitchell grinned. "He fainted, sir."

Jack leant forward in his chair as he stared at John. "What did you do?" He sounded more like a stern father than a General.

John's face was the picture of innocence. "I didn't…touch him sir."

"That is not what I asked, Sheppard."

Daniel had wondered whether John would repeat his earlier questioning 'techniques'. If he had, it was no wonder that John was beginning to look tired. He knew only too well that, whenever John had used his so called powers, it had taken rather a lot out of him. And, until he totally understood how and what he was doing, he guessed that they would continue to do so.

If only he could find a way of connecting to David….

"Alright." Jack had clearly concluded that that was a dead end, so was moving onto the next topic. Daniel had hoped it would be him.

"McKay. You manage to find anything at the IOA?"

Rodney sat forward in his chair and grabbed the tablet off the table. "You could say that, yes." He then looked straight at John before he continued.

"The data was sent to one user every time: PCN1456."

"Who is?" asked Jack abruptly.

"Carl Strom," said John quietly.

"Bingo!" Rodney exclaimed, pointing at John, who gave him a tired smile.

John had been right all along.

"So, what was he doing with all the data?" asked Mitchell, who sat beside John.

"Well, he was certainly checking out all the business contacts and David's movements. But, his particular focus was on the financial accounts." Rodney looked straight at John again. "One account in particular actually: An offshore account in Switzerland."

John instantly frowned hard. "What?"

"Yeah. But that's not all. As Strom seemed interested in a particular date, I interrogated the data further…"

"What was the date, Rodney?" John sounded like he had a suspicion of where this was going.

"May 2008."

John rubbed his forehead hard. "The year my father died."

Rodney sat on the edge of his seat, and Daniel couldn't help but notice that the scientist's face had softened. "John, there's more. I found several entries that suggest that Strom was looking to have PSI investigated for money laundering and fraud."

John took a sharp intake of breath as he stared at his friend.

"I think he was looking to bring PSI down, and the family name with it."

The room fell silent as they all looked at John, who leant forward and covered his face with both hands. Teyla, who was sat on the other side of John, slowly moved to rest a hand reassuringly on his thigh.

Daniel knew that John would be blaming himself. Again. Why the man thought he had to know everything, he had no idea, but John did have a natural leaning towards taking on guilt. In this case, it was because he had dismissed the large data transmissions as nothing more than a 'bonus' find, and that their focus had been on David alone.

After a moment, John slid his hands down his face. He now looked utterly drained.

"I…" his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "I need to give James Coalfield a call."

"I can speak to him if you like," offered Rodney gently.

John smiled weakly at him. "Thanks, Rodney. But I think it'll be better coming from me."

"Ok, well, if he needs to talk about the other documents I found…."

"Yes, thank you, Rodney," John interrupted him, rather sharply.

Rodney grimaced, as the pained expression in his friend's face was clear for all to see.

So Daniel's suspicions about the data were correct. Strom was planning on attacking not just John, or Dave, but the legacy of the Sheppard family.

But, from his latest findings, he knew there was more to it than that. He had a few ideas, but as yet, he had no proof. He needed to find the missing pieces to link everything together. He also needed to speak to John. Alone.

Jack cleared his throat, which instantly brought Daniel's attention back.

"Regarding your request to beam down to England…Well, I made a few calls."

John looked expectantly at him.

Jack grimaced slightly and John looked immediately crestfallen.

"I'm sorry, Sheppard. But it's not like there are many BC-304s just hanging around. The Daedalus is still on its way back from the Pegasus galaxy, the George Hammond is on a top secret mission with Carter and the Prometheus…"

Jack faded out. Nearly everyone in the room knew of their fate. It had been destroyed three years ago, taking more than 39 of its 115 plus officers and crew with it. It was particularly poignant for Daniel, as it had been in orbit over the planet, Tagalus, where they had picked up when he had been a Prior.

Jack continued. "The Odyssey is still…on its secret mission, and the Apollo is still here, but crippled since its run in with the Wraith ship a couple of months back."

Daniel frowned. The Odyssey was the ship that held the entire Asgard legacy, and had been sent on its rather mysterious mission earlier in the year. And, no matter how much he had asked Jack about it, he had refused to discuss it.

"In what way is the Apollo damaged, sir?" John looked somewhat more hopeful than a moment ago, and Daniel wondered if he had thought of something.

"Well, I can't tell you precisely, but I do know that the Asgard computer core has been damaged."

"What about the engines?" asked Rodney quickly.

Jack grimaced. "As far as I know, the Hyperdrive and sublight engines are both offline, so she is pretty much dead in the water."

"What about the manoeuvring thrusters?"

"McKay, what did I just say?" Jack glared at him. "I can't tell you _precisely_."

"Look," Rodney tried to remain calm. "We wouldn't need sublight or hyperdrive engines. If the manoeuvring thrusters are operational, we should gain just enough momentum to move the ship to enable us to use the transporter rings. We don't need to use the Asgard transporter beam."

Jack stared at Rodney for a moment. "Ok. I will find out."

He then looked back at Daniel. "Ok. Care to share with the class?"

Daniel sighed.

Finally. And he knew that this was probably going to be the hardest for them all to hear. It had certainly left Jack speechless.

He looked at each of them, who were all waiting expectantly. His gaze finally came to rest on John. He took a deep breath and then began, slowly.

"At first I thought that Strom's presence in England may have had some connection with Merlin and the Arthurian legends. We all know that Merlin had invented as many incredible creations as Janus. But something told me that this wasn't the case here."

He realised that he had started to speed up, so he took a breath, and made sure he continued just as unhurriedly.

"So I started to wonder if there had been any recent discoveries in the country, so I checked out the internet. Sure enough, there has been a rather incredible find, merely a couple of months ago, in a small village in Hammerwich, in a county called Staffordshire."

"And?" Rodney was never very good at listening to others. Daniel ignored him and continued to look at John, who was waiting patiently. He handed him the print out, which John began to look at.

"It's called the 'Staffordshire Hoard', and is considered the largest find of Anglo-Saxon gold and silver metalwork _ever_ found."

"Sorry, Daniel, I don't quite follow…" Rodney got up and tried to peer over John's shoulder at the sheets of paper that he was still looking at.

"Anglo-Saxons were partly descended from the Germanic tribes, who migrated from continental Europe in the early fifth century."

"Could you be a little more specific, Daniel?" Rodney now sounded sarcastic.

Daniel took a deep breath. "The Northern Germanic people were fierce believers of Norse paganism…." He looked at each of the faces, waiting to see if the proverbial penny would drop.

Teyla and Ronon continued to look expectantly at him, though realisation had clearly hit home with Mitchell, Rodney and John.

"What?! Are you suggesting..?" Rodney trailed off as he looked at them all.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Mitchell exclaimed loudly.

John continued to stare at him. Daniel knew that John's education would have covered that particular subject.

"Norse mythology…." John whispered slowly, as he gazed into mid air.

Daniel nodded, glancing briefly at Jack, who was also watching John's reaction.

"I am sorry, Daniel," Teyla spoke up for the first time. "I am not familiar with such legends…"

Daniel smiled apologetically. "There was a particular race of advanced beings that were rather fond of the Norse mythology, and took their names from the mythical Gods."

John took a sharp intake of breath, and looked straight at her. "The Asgard."

**To be continued….**

**Post Script:**

The location of the IOA Headquarters was never actually stated in either SG1 or Atlantis, so, with a lot of help from JodyMarie, I decided that the Ronald Regan Building was a perfect location.

The 'Staffordshire Hoard' was discovered in 2009, and to date, contains more than 3,500 pieces, and is now valued to around £2.285 million. When I watched a documentary about the find, I knew immediately that it would have a place in my story.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Real life got in the way, I'm afraid. Hope it's worth the wait….

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 7**

"Aren't the Asgard all dead?" Cameron Mitchell exclaimed sharply. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't they, you know, the _good_ guys?"

"Well, technically yes," Daniel conceded slowly.

Mitchell threw him a rather cynical look. "Technically?"

Daniel sighed. "Yes, as far as we know, they did commit mass suicide a few years back."

Mitchell very deliberately folded his arms across his chest as he sat back in his chair. "Ok, Jackson, why don't you explain how an archaeological find in England is somehow connected with a race of _dead_ aliens."

Daniel gestured to the pages that John still held in his hand. "Page 2."

Considering the subject matter, Daniel had expected John to at least look at the page, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't stir at all, and was just staring blindly at the floor.

"John?" Daniel said rather forcefully, and John took a sharp intake of breath as his head shot up. He blinked a few times, and then slowly began to look around the room, as though he had forgotten where he was, until his focus finally settled on Daniel.

Although John's eyes were still their usual hazel colour, Daniel knew that something was clearly out of place. He frowned a little, and gestured to the pages once again. "Page 2?"

John looked down, and looked rather surprised to find them there. His brow creased slightly as he flicked over the page.

"It's called a 'Millefiori stud'," Daniel explained quietly.

"It's a what?" Mitchell began to stand up, and John handed him the page.

Mitchell sat back down again and held the paper at various angles. "Well, it just looks like a rather fancy button to me."

"Look more closely at the design."

He stared at Daniel for a moment before he looked back down at the image. "It's surrounded by what looks like gold, and maybe garnets, with a small painted grey stone in the centre." He looked back up. "Sorry, I'm still not seeing it."

"Apart from the gold edging, the outer section could be a rather crude representation of the chevrons of a Stargate…"

"Seriously? Mitchell stared back at the image and then snorted. "I think you have had one too many trips through the Stargate, Jackson. It's finally beginning to affect your brain…"

Daniel pointed back at the printout. "I am serious. Look at the centre stone."

Mitchell sighed heavily, but did as he was bid. "It looks like a chequer board…."

"Now look beyond the paint…"

Mitchell stared more closely at it, and then looked up. "Nope."

"Just tell 'em, Daniel," exclaimed Jack abruptly.

"I think it might be an Asgard communication stone."

Mitchell cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're kidding, right? That little thing?"

"Not everything has to be 'big'," Daniel replied as he made speech marks in the air. "We are only going by the Asgard technology that we actually _know_ about. Besides, size isn't everything."

Mitchell snorted again. "Yeah, that's a misconception."

"Let me see that," demanded Rodney, and Mitchell handed the page over.

Rodney rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked at it. "Mmm, it does look pretty small. But then, the Rod of Janus is much smaller than the other Repository devices, and we all know how much of a punch that can give out…."

They all looked at John, who was once more staring at nothing in particular. But, where he had just looked distracted, he now wore a rather pinched expression on his face.

"Ok," Mitchell sat back in his chair and crossed his legs nonchalantly. "So, assuming that this tiny…stud thing is in fact a kind of communication device, what would Strom want it for? I mean, if the Asgard are all dead, what would be the point?"

"But they're not." Rodney interjected sharply. Daniel knew that he would be the first to make the connection.

"What?" Mitchell retorted sharply, looking completely confused.

Rodney glanced meaningfully at Daniel as he replied, "the Vanir."

"The _who_?" Mitchell evidently hadn't kept up with all the goings on in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Did you not read my report on M6H-987?" Daniel looked remonstratively at him.

"I have been kinda busy…"

Daniel sighed. "The Vanir are distant cousins of the Asgard we knew. Due to their somewhat differing beliefs, the Vanir left their home world in the Ida Galaxy over ten thousand years ago, and headed for the Pegasus Galaxy. Although they are physiologically similar, they are most definitely different. Not only do they look more…healthy than their cousins, which would suggest that their cloning techniques are somewhat more advanced, but their methods are certainly more extreme."

"I had never encountered the Vanir before they infiltrated Atlantis," murmured Teyla quietly, as she glanced at Ronon, who shook his head.

"I'm not surprised," replied Daniel. "As you know, when the Lanteans abandoned the Pegasus Galaxy, the Wraith became the dominant species. Looking for their next potential threat, they naturally turned their attention to the Vanir. In order to continue their rather unorthodox experiments, the Vanir were forced to hide on M6H-987, where the atmosphere is so toxic, that even the Wraith wouldn't follow them. They had been hiding there ever since."

"Hence the need for their rather impressive armoured exoskeletons…" added Rodney.

"Don't you still have a couple of those on Atlantis, Sheppard?" Jack looked directly at John, who failed to respond.

"Sheppard?" Jack's voice hardened and John's head shot up at the sound of his name.

It wasn't hard to miss the rather haunted expression in John's eyes, which were now beginning to show signs of the familiar blue flecks.

"Sir?" His voice broke slightly.

"The fancy suits? I take it you still have them?"

John hesitated for a moment, frowning. "Yes sir."

Jack leant forward and cocked his head to one side. "You ok, son?"

"Yes sir."

But the slight shake of John's voice did little to reassure anyone in the room.

Although the subject matter was extremely concerning, it wasn't as if they hadn't all been faced with equally disturbing situations before. But the atmosphere was becoming increasingly heavier, and Daniel could feel the same electrical charge in the air, just as he had done when John had been interrogating Coolidge.

"Ok…" Jack said slowly, as he continued to regard John carefully. "So, the Vanir. What happened to them?"

John hesitated for a moment, and then winced slightly as he shifted position in his chair. "We…" he paused, his eyes moving rapidly as if something had completely distracted him for a moment, and Jack glanced across at Daniel.

John cleared his throat, and then continued. "We managed to destroy the two Vanir ships that were in orbit above M6H-987. Unfortunately, there was a third, which jumped into hyperspace."

John took a rather unsteady breath, as though he was about to continue, but instead, he once more lapsed into silence. Rodney looked rather worriedly at his friend, and instantly stepped in to continue on his behalf.

"Unfortunately the third ship had taken the control key with them, which meant that Jackson and I had to shut down the Attero device manually, by pulling the antenna control crystal."

"Yeah. Not one of my personal favourites…" uttered Daniel quietly.

At the time, Daniel had thought that the powerful energy beam had finished him for sure, but luckily the armoured suits had taken the brunt of the strike. And even though it had been over a year since then, his body still ached at times, especially in the damp weather. He refused to accept that it was just old age.

"So they are still out there …" Ronon spoke up for the first time.

"Yeah, but they _were_ in the Pegasus Galaxy." Rodney spoke unusually slowly.

"So, what you are saying," reiterated Mitchell slowly, "is that Strom may have used this rather small stud to contact the Vanir, to offer them some kinda deal?"

"Maybe."

"Well," Jack was still watching John. "Seeing as we don't have much else to go on, I guess we have a place to start. We need to go check out this … stud, and if it turns out to be just a pretty button, then at least we can rule out the possibility of Asgard involvement."

A rather uncomfortable silence fell on the room once again.

Daniel knew that it was somewhat of a stretch that such a small item could indeed be an Asgard communication device. But, it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to him; people had been questioning his theories for years, and he knew when he was onto something.

He also knew that Strom wouldn't have just taken David Sheppard out of sheer spite. The man was devious, and hadn't become Head of the IOA without knowing a thing or two. But surely he must have known that there would be repercussions for his actions, so why take such a huge risk? What could the Vanir possibly offer him?

As Head of the IOA, Strom naturally had access to all the Atlantis and SG1 mission reports. But, as Daniel knew only too well, they never included the finer, more important details. But Strom didn't know that, and would have naturally assumed that he knew all there was to know about the Vanir and the Asgard.

From all the evidence Rodney had found, Strom had clearly been trying to find out everything he could about the Sheppard family, and its business. But again, Strom seemed to have little comprehension that, by threatening the life of David Sheppard, he had thrown down the gauntlet to probably the most powerful adversary he was ever likely to encounter: Colonel John Sheppard.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

John was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate.

It was not so much the subject matter that was causing the problem, but rather the voices and images that were now rushing through his mind.

It had been several years since he had experienced such intense flashbacks. After Afghanistan, John had suffered badly from them; forcing him to relive the tragic and traumatic events, over and over again.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was sadly all too common amongst soldiers who had seen a lot of front line action, and John had seen more than his fair share. Despite weeks and weeks of seeing the Air Force shrink, who had seemed more interested in getting him to explore his childhood than his war zone issues, John had ceased the sessions. Instead, he had fine tuned his ability to compartmentalise, which had helped a little. But it was only when he had been posted to the snow covered environment of McMurdo Air Force Base, that they had finally begun to abate.

So John knew only too well that it would take just one ordinary thing to trigger a flashback. But, as far as he was concerned, there had been no triggers. What he was seeing and hearing right now, was something entirely different.

The flashbacks had started when he had gone back to interrogate Coolidge in the Holding cells. It hadn't been so much that the guy had fainted that had brought the session abruptly to an end, but rather the sudden appearance of Dave's smiling face…

At first he had thought, and prayed, that it had been a sign that his brother was trying to communicate with him. But, when the balcony of Atlantis came into view, and then Dave thwacking the golf ball into the darkness of space, he knew then that it wasn't.

But the flashbacks had gradually increased after that, and now seemed to be going at full speed. It was like a nightmare scene from a movie: flashes of faces, zooming in close and then fading out, only to be replaced with another face or another image.

It wasn't only the voices and faces that he was experiencing either. Strange wiring diagrams, schematics of rooms, and diagnostic programs, all flashed through his mind. Some he recognised: like the power distribution systems of Atlantis, and the Control Chair. But he couldn't identify the rooms, and he had no idea what the programs were.

It was as if something had been suddenly unlocked inside his mind, allowing everything that had been so ordered and neatly filed away, to run riot, and he seemed powerless to be able to stop it.

Once again, the angry glare of Strom flashed into his mind, as he stood outside the Conference Room of Atlantis: _'you will not get away with this_, _you mutant freak_!'

His face suddenly faded away, and the IOA Headquarters came sharply into view. The pain filled face of Coolidge looking up at him: '_you are too late, you will never reach him in time_'….

His face quickly disappeared and the setting suddenly shifted once again.

It was Dave, sat in the Control Chair as he underwent the CIA test, which then quickly morphed into the balcony scene again, and Dave laughing. _'Just don't turn to the dark side, little brother.'_

John remembered feeling a sudden cold chill run through him when Dave had first uttered those words.

Is that what he had done? By using his energies for somewhat darker purposes, had that unlocked the deluge of information that was now flooding his brain? He tried to contain the shudder.

Up until now, he had been able to mask his emotions from the others, although Teyla and Daniel, and now O'Neill, were definitely looking at him more carefully. But the constant changes of scenery were beginning to cause his stomach to turn and his energies to stir, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hide the fact that something was definitely wrong.

He tried to reassure himself that it would stop at some point; it had to, else they would have to lock him away in some padded room, for it truly felt as if he was beginning to lose his grip on both reality and his own sanity.

'_You are too late…' _Coolidge's voice, once again echoed through his mind, taunting him.

What did Coolidge mean? Was he referring to the fact that they were about to move Dave from his current location, or to the tests?

If only he could figure out a way to communicate with his brother!

Although John knew that Dave was strong minded and self-assured, he had no military skills, and no training to resist any forms of torture or interrogation. Throughout the last vision, David's fear and confusion had been overwhelming, and it continued to wrench painfully at John's heart.

He had tried to use his age-old technique of compartmentalisation, but even that wasn't working. It was as if something in his mind was actually blocking him from turning all his emotions off.

He had to stay focussed! He struggled to ignore the latest image of some kind of wiring diagram, and concentrated on Daniel's voice.

"If the Vanir are here, I think we can safely assume that they are still looking for a cure. And, seeing that they can't clone Jack…."

"And Sheppard is supposedly out of the Galaxy, so they are after the next best thing…" Mitchell's added, somewhat dramatically.

The room suddenly fell silent, and John took an unsteady breath, as the image of Dave in the Control Chair flashed through his mind once again.

Is that what the tests were: Medical experiments for the Vanir? Was that why he hadn't had a vision today?

John felt his energy suddenly lurch forward, and his stomach knotted, making him feel incredibly nauseous and he tightened his grip on the arms of the chair.

Was Daniel right? If the strange looking stud really was an Asgard Communications Device, had Strom used it to contact the Vanir? He knew that the guy had been pissed at him, but would Strom really have gone to such lengths to get back at him? What could he possibly hope to gain?

A sudden flash of the Ranch and Dave's trashed office appeared in his mind, and the image of the alarm consol zoomed into focus. Sure enough, it had been set. An Asgard beam would not have triggered the alarm. But surely someone must have seen a brilliant white light shining down…

John felt the nausea rise again, and his energies surged through him. He slowly closed his eyes, lowered his head, and tried to breathe more deeply in an effort to calm himself down.

"John, are you alright?" Teyla's gentle voice pulled him back, urging him to respond.

His head was now pounding, as if all the information was struggling to get out. But he managed to lift his head to look at her, and her concern and love touched him deeply. He wouldn't and couldn't lie to her. It was time to admit that something was definitely wrong.

"I don't….feel… so…."John's breath caught sharply as his energy suddenly spiked, causing his vision to blur. He blinked hard, hoping to clear the sudden haze, but it didn't work.

"John?" Daniel's urgent voice filtered through.

Surely this wasn't the beginning of another vision… The last one had come on so slowly. He had thought that this was just the accumulation of all those damn flashing images…But no. This was something entirely different.

Oh God, wait a minute! Could it be…?

He slowly closed his eyes, focussing every ounce of his attention on his energy, and then reached out with his mind.

_Dave?_

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Even though the discussion had just taken a more sinister turn, Teyla had been feeling a growing sense of foreboding ever since John had interrogated James Coolidge earlier that morning. Although it had been truly unsettling to watch John use his new powers, it was not that which had disturbed her.

It was far more instinctive, more intrinsic than that. It was as though she could feel a constant shift in her life force, like a strange reverberation, as though John was trying to 'touch' her mind. But, he had 'shared' so much of his energy with her over the past few weeks, that she knew only too well what that felt like, and this most certainly wasn't that. But his energies did feel…different.

Had using his powers on Coolidge caused some kind of transformation deep within him?

Whatever the reason for the change, the feeling was growing stronger, colder, and darker. It was beginning to feel not unlike the sensation she felt whenever there was a wraith nearby, but it was not that kind of connection.

She tried to control the sudden desire to gasp, as she felt an incredibly strong wave of John's energy hit her consciousness.

"John, are you alright?" Teyla struggled to keep her voice calm and steady, hoping that the sound of her voice would reach him. It appeared to have worked as he slowly looked up at her. The blue flecks against the hazel were growing brighter by the second.

"I don't….feel… so…."John's breath suddenly caught sharply, and he blinked hard.

"John?" Daniel shot out of his chair and crouched down in front of him, just as John slowly closed his eyes. Daniel glanced briefly at Teyla, and the peered up at John once more. "Guys, I think it's about to happen again…"

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Daniel's voice suddenly sounded so far away.

John felt his energy spike again, only now the pressure was unmistakable; right in the centre of his forehead.

The power was building far more rapidly than the last time, and John had to concentrate on his breathing just to stop it from completely overwhelming him. He wanted this to happen. He needed this to happen. He breathed in deeply, and then just let go.

The force of his energies virtually exploded in his mind, and he heard his own voice cry out. And then…

Nothing.

Damn it, why hadn't it worked?

He breathed in deeply, and was immediately overwhelmed by an incredibly pungent smell. It reminded him a little of the rotting smell he had experienced in the first two visions, but this wasn't so much of rotting flesh, but rotten eggs, mixed with bleach, and it hit the back of his throat hard.

He fought against his desire to cough and slowly opened his eyes, which caused him to gasp at the sudden blinding light. He slammed his eyes shut, gave it a second for the white spots to clear from his vision, and then cautiously opened them, little by little.

A large operating theatre light shone brightly above him. It was at that point that he realised he was flat on his back. He kept his breathing shallow so as not to choke on the foul stench, and began to survey the area.

It took less then five seconds to determine that, although it was relatively dark, he could see that he appeared to be in a cell like room; thick metal bars formed the entrance, and the other walls appeared to be made of brick. Sadly, John could see nothing beyond the bars, apart from what appeared to be a dark corridor.

During those five seconds, he had also established that he was in fact alone in the room, though John's eyes were instantly drawn to a camera in the far corner of the ceiling. A small red light at its base indicated that it was on and, more importantly, it was definitely Earth technology.

_So, not on a ship then…that's a start._

Benches lined one side of the room, which had various test tubes, liquids and electrical equipment, most of which he couldn't quite make out, but they all looked equally sinister.

_Ok, time to assess how Dave is…_

He turned his focus inward.

Cold. Incredibly cold! He could hardly feel his extremities.

Sore. The areas that weren't numb with cold, felt raw and tender.

Heavy. Drug induced, no doubt.

Unlike last time it took some doing to consciously move Dave's body, but John managed to shift his position slightly, and couldn't mistake the all too familiar sensation of tight straps around both wrists. He turned his palms down, and felt cold smooth metal. Ok, so he was on some kind of operating table then. As he had twisted his arm he had felt a rather familiar tug at his skin. He carefully moved his eyes down. An IV line seemed to be administering some kind of clear liquid, though John knew that it wasn't saline.

He had also noticed that it wasn't just the overall chill of the room, nor the metal table, that was causing the cold. His entire chest was bare. He tried to lift his head slightly, but excruciating pain tore down his neck and through his spine. His breathing was ragged as he slowly lowered his head back down.

_Ok, let's not do that again…. _

Although he only raised his head for a second, it had been long enough to see that his chest, or rather Dave's, looked mottled and blotchy. But the angry, swollen marks looked more like an allergic reaction than a series of impact blows. He had been breathing shallowly due to the smell, so tried to take a slow, deeper breath in. The pain was instant, and the air escaped from his lips on a shuddering breath.

_What the hell were they doing to him?_

His energies surged to the fore as his anger flared. Now was not the time. He had to stay calm and focussed.

Whatever they were doing, John now knew two things for sure. Firstly, that Dave was alive, and secondly, he still appeared to be on Earth.

But where was he?

Without lifting his head, he strained to look back out through the bars. But the corridor was so dark, that he just couldn't see a thing. He had gotten so used to living on Atlantis, where he could just turn things on with a thought, that his frustration levels raised another notch.

He knew he had the power of telekinesis, but hadn't actually tried it on Earth. If only there was a light somewhere, he could maybe try to turn it _ON_.

Within seconds, a series of bright flashes lit up the corridor, as a florescent strip light suddenly came on, just out of sight.

_Well, I'll be damned…._

The entire length of the corridor could now clearly be seen. And, more importantly, he could now make out a sign on the wall. He squinted hard, trying to make out the bold lettering.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Daniel checked his watch for a second time. John had been 'under' for approximately ten minutes.

Even though John had initially cried out when the vision had first begun, his countenance looked peaceful enough now, although the occasional twitch had them all holding their breath. But something didn't feel right to Daniel, though he had no idea why.

"What's up, Daniel?" Jack had wandered round to the front of his desk and perched on the edge, just in front of John. "We were kinda expecting this to happen again."

"Yeah, I know. It's just…"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Just what?"

"I just… got a funny feeling."

Daniel had expected to hear one of Jack's usual flippant responses, and so was surprised when he didn't get one.

"Well it _was_ fast," Jack agreed quietly.

"Yeah."

Perhaps that was what was concerning him. His previous vision had taken hours to manifest itself, but this one seemed to have taken mere seconds. Had John found a way of 'bringing on' a vision? Somehow Daniel didn't think so.

No. It was almost as though someone had helped….

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

No matter how hard he tried, John just couldn't quite make out the writing on the sign. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his brain had just tried to force its way out through his skull, which was causing his eyes to water and his vision to blur.

If only he had some power like Superman's 'x-ray' vision, he would be able to see the damn sign! But, apart from telekinesis, and some telepathy, he had no idea just what other powers he did have.

Sure, he could perhaps try and levitate the sign off the wall, but he hadn't even practiced using it. Knowing his luck, if he even managed to get it off the wall in the first place, he would probably end up dropping it.

No, using that particular ability was not an option right now. If only Benedict had helped…just a little….

His energy suddenly faltered, like a damaged electrical circuit, causing his heart to miss a beat, and he slammed his eyes closed. But, within seconds, the connection seemed to correct itself, as the energy surged through his veins once more. Only this time it was much stronger, more potent.

_What the hell was that?_

As he slowly opened his eyes, he had to fight against the desire to draw a sharp intake of breath. He had his answer. Just like before, when he had experienced his first real vision, he could feel the powerful energy in his eyes.

His vision was now clearer, more enhanced. Even with the strip light on, everything looked brighter, and more defined. Colours looked richer, and everything had more depth. As he stared beyond the bars of the room, he could almost make out shapes of rooms that, in reality, he knew were beyond the concrete walls.

He quickly focussed his attention back to the sign on the wall, which was now as clear as if he was standing right in front of it.

_Oh my God! Well, that explains the smell…._

John spent the next few minutes assessing the area, trying to commit the layout to memory as quickly as he could. He then turned his attention back to his brother. Perhaps, now that he was in this altered 'state', he might at least stand a chance of contacting Dave.

He centred his focus inwards again.

_Dave?_

Nothing.

_Dave, its John. Can you hear me?_

Still nothing.

John was just about to try again, when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor. His heart skipped a beat, and he turned his attention towards the sound.

With his enhanced eyesight, he could at least see the outlines of three figures, moving like ghosts down the furthest corridor. Even though he knew he should be feeling incredibly impressed by the very fact that he could even do this, he couldn't help but feel frustrated that he wasn't able to make out their faces. Perhaps he could hear their voices. He continued to stare, unblinking at the approaching figures, and listened.

He was so intent at discovering their identity that he was completely taken by surprise, when he felt a strangely familiar 'push' against his energy.

_Ben?_

_Si, young Heir. You must break link now._

_What?_

_BREAK link. Now!_

John didn't know what stunned him more: the fact that he hadn't 'heard' from Benedict for days, and was now literally shouting in his head, or that the monk was clearly intervening, thereby breaking his strict rules of non-interference.

_Now, John! BREAK IT!_

Although John so desperately wanted to confirm the identity of his brother's captors, the fact that Benedict had just used his real name, which he had never done before, just emphasised the urgency of his request.

Without questioning it, John quickly closed his eyes, breathed out deeply, and tried to centre his energy. But the sound of mumbled voices, getting closer, caused him to drop his focus. If he could just wait a few more seconds…

But before he knew what was happening, he suddenly felt excruciating pain in his head, followed by the bizarre sensation of flying, as his consciousness was literally being ripped away.

"NO!"

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

John's breathing suddenly quickened, which instantly stopped any further contemplation or discussion. His whole body shuddered violently for a moment, and then it stopped as quickly as it had started.

"NO!"

John's heart felt yell pulled at Daniel's own. John was now panting heavily, his head had dropped down and his eyes were still closed. Daniel glanced at Teyla, who still held onto John's arm, and her breathing was rapid as she looked questioningly back at Daniel. He nodded, knowing that if anyone could reach him, Teyla could.

"John?" Teyla's gentle voice caused John's head to snap up and his eyes flew open. It came as no surprise to see that his eyes were once again blue, but they were now incredibly bright. It was as if the power of his energies could not be contained by the confines of his eyes…

John slowly moved his unblinking eyes to look straight at Teyla, who continued to hold onto his arm, and met his gaze without fear or hesitation.

"John, you back with us?" Daniel wondered if John would respond.

"Yes," he whispered, and slowly lowered his head. He sounded so disheartened. But, within seconds, his despondent expression quickly transformed into anger.

"Damn it!" he growled deeply as his fists clenched tightly, and the electricity in the room almost seemed to fizzle.

"What's wrong?" Daniel's heart was in his mouth.

John took a deep calming breath and slowly lifted his gaze to look at them all. Pausing briefly at Teyla, his bright blue eyes finally came to rest on Jack.

"I know where my brother is, Sir."

"Where?"

John turned his head unhurriedly to look straight at Daniel.

"Birmingham Museum."

Daniel's eyes widened "Oh my God, of course. It makes perfect sense…How can I be so stupid!?" He felt like kicking himself.

"It does?"

Even though Daniel knew how much Jack hated it when he did so, he just couldn't help himself, and he unleashed the information at breakneck speed.

"Yes. The findings of the Hoard are currently on display there. If I'm right, and the 'Millefiori stud' is an Asgard communication device, it would make perfect sense that Strom would take David there."

Daniel then turned back to John.

"John, what just happened? What did you see?"

John's expression grew darker, but his eyes grew brighter. "He is being held in some kinda cell in the basement, next to one of 'Restoration Rooms'. No one is guarding him, but there is a camera monitoring the room."

Daniel looked up at the others. "The Birmingham Museum is also an Art Gallery. I haven't been there in years, but it was pretty standard practice to take archaeological artefacts there for cleaning or cataloguing."

"How… is he?" Teyla's voice trembled slightly, which caused John to look back at her. His expression softened slightly, and the brightness of his eyes seemed to dim.

"Not good. But he is alive."

"Thank the Ancients," she breathed.

John's expression immediately hardened, and looked quickly back at Jack.

"What d'you need, Sheppard?"

"Doctor Beckett, The Rod of Janus, a jumper, and…Brother Benedict. Sir."

Although Daniel had fully expected John to ask for Carson, the thought of bringing Brother Benedict AND the Rod of Janus down to Earth, was rather an unsettling thought.

Jack frowned, clearly thinking the same thing. John leant his head on one side as he carefully watched Jack.

"They pose no threat, Sir." A rather menacing smile began to appear. "Not to the general population anyway."

But Jack's frown just deepened. "Not that I don't trust you, Sheppard, but that is an awful lot of alien… tech you are talking about bringing to Earth."

John inclined his head slightly, clearly acknowledging his concerns, but to Daniel the action reminded him too much of Benedict's mannerisms than that of John Sheppard. But then, John did seem to behave somewhat differently when his powers were at their strongest. Maybe it was the residual energy from his ascension….

"I understand the risks, sir," John' expression darkened. "But we have no choice. We are running out of time."

Jack sighed heavily, and Daniel knew how much his friend hated those kinds of statements.

John obviously saw the need to clarify his reasons for his request, as he began to speak again. Though he spoke slowly and patiently, the urgency of his tone was unmistakable.

"I was close to finding out who was responsible, when a certain _monk_ decided to intervene. I need to find out why. We don't have time to wait for Rodney to fix the Apollo, so we need a jumper. We also need more Intel on the Vanir. It would take too long to search through the Ancient Database on Atlantis. I can use the Rod to access the data in a matter of minutes. Major Lorne can bring me all four, within the hour."

So Daniel was right. John had not been alone. Brother Benedict had intervened. Perhaps that was the reason why this latest vision had come on so fast.

Jack sighed, stood up and began to pace up and down the small area behind his desk. Daniel couldn't understand why Jack was taking so long to authorise this. But, even if he didn't, Daniel was also aware that John was more than likely going to do it anyway. It was purely out of his respect for Jack's command that he wasn't using the 'Heir' card…

_Jack, c'mon!_

His friend then stopped, and put his hands in his pockets. "You will have to go 'dark' on this one, you know that don't you?"

John leant forward, almost menacingly. "No one will ever know we are there, sir. I give you my word."

Daniel instantly understood Jack's reluctance.

It wasn't so much about the huge risk of taking that much alien technology onto Earth that was the issue. It was the potential ramifications of entering a foreign country, without their prior knowledge or authorisation. This meant that they would have to operate completely off the record and off the radar. Although Daniel knew that, if it came down to it, and they needed back up, Jack would still be there for them, no matter the cost.

After all, you never left your people behind.

"Ok, Sheppard. You have a go."

John slowly closed his bright blue eyes. "Thank you, sir."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Major Evan Lorne couldn't help but feel rather unsettled as he flew Jumper 2 out of the city and into space. But it wasn't because he was on his way to the Pentagon. Nor was it the fact that, being the Colonel's second in command, he had been forced to leave Atlantis in the somewhat questionable hands of Dr Radek Zelenka. It was more to do with the 'cargo' he was carrying, that made him so uneasy.

He glanced back slightly to the silent figure who sat diagonally across from him.

Brother Benedict hadn't spoken a word since Lorne had informed him of Colonel Sheppard's orders, and he wondered if the monk had actually expected it before he had even uttered the words. Even when Lorne had asked him to cast off his rather Jedi like attire, and put on some BDUs, he had just smiled rather knowingly, and inclined his head. That, in and of itself, just looked down right wrong.

If the strange, almost electric presence wasn't enough, the artefact that sat on the co-pilot seat made Lorne even more edgy.

Even though he knew that the mysterious Rod of Janus wasn't even on, and wasn't likely to be as only the Colonel could activate it, it still felt extremely disturbing. Something that powerful….

He eyed it warily once more, before he returned his attention back to the viewport, and the HUD instantly responded by flashing up in front of him.

Not far now.

It was somewhat reassuring to know that his trusted team were with him though. Sadly his original XO, Stevens, and Walker had died a few years ago when they had been trying to extract the Iratus bug eggs, but Coughlin and Lieutenant Reed were still with him, and had been since day one. So they had adjusted pretty quickly to all the recent events, as he knew they would. However, the relatively new guys, Cooper and Armstrong, who were both seasoned marines, were finding it a little more difficult.

Thankfully Reed sat behind Lorne, but the others were all in the back with Doctor Beckett and his medical gear. Understandably, the Doc had been more than happy to be out of sight of the Monk.

Colonel Sheppard, who had contacted them from the Pentagon, via the SGC, had said very little. But from what he had said, Lorne had told Carson to bring pretty much everything. And, as he glanced back into the cargo hold, Beckett had taken his orders seriously, as it appeared that he had packed pretty much half the infirmary into the bags that now surrounded him.

Lorne cleared his throat, avoided the rather penetrating gaze of the monk, and turned back round to the controls, and pushed the Jumper faster.

The sooner they got to the Pentagon, the better.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Teyla watched John carefully through the window of General O'Neill's Meeting Room. Although he had only been on the phone to James Coalfield for a matter of minutes, and she could not hear the conversation, Teyla could already see that it was not going well.

Thankfully, it had only taken a matter of minutes for John's eyes to return to their wonderful deep hazel colour, but the whole experience had clearly taken its toll on him, and he looked completely drained. She had asked him if he had needed to rest, which of course, he had just smiled at her gently but declined.

After contacting Major Lorne, John had asked General O'Neill for a more private location so that he might call the Vice President of PSI. Rodney had then, rather predictably, asked if they had a canteen nearby, and the General had kindly offered to take them. Despite being asked if she wanted anything, Teyla's concern for John was still too strong, and her stomach was far too unsettled to tolerate food, so had declined. So, here she stood, patiently watching the man she loved, go through yet another distressing experience.

John was currently looking at the floor as he paced up and down the long length of the conference table, running a hand round the back of his neck as he always did when he was troubled.

At least she now understood why his energies had felt so strange: It had been Brother Benedict that she had been sensing. Why the monk had chosen that moment to interrupt what could have confirmed who was responsible for David's abduction, she couldn't begin to contemplate. But, by the expression on John's face, she was sure that he would be asking him that very question, just as soon as they arrived from Atlantis.

He suddenly stopped his pacing, leant back against the table, and held his brow in his hand, as if shielding his eyes from a bright light. Her heart skipped a beat. Was he alright? Was he about to have another vision?

As she took one step towards the closed door, he quickly looked up at her, smiled slightly and gave a slight shake of his head. He then continued to talk on the phone, and she let out a sigh of relief and leant her head against the window.

"Is he ok?"

The sudden voice behind her caused her to jump, and then, realising who it was, turned to give Daniel a rather embarrassed smile. She looked back at John.

"He appears to be…"

Daniel moved to stand beside her. "Yeah, well, it was never going to be an easy conversation. It's one thing to hear that PSI is about to be framed for Money Laundering and Fraud, it's another to accept it without actually being told as to the 'why' or the 'who'."

"Indeed." She glanced towards Daniel. "Do you think the matter will still be pursued?"

"I don't know, Teyla. Probably."

Teyla felt her anger flare at the injustice of it all. "Perhaps the President might be asked to intervene? It is a setup, after all."

"Well, if James Coalfield can't get to the bottom of it, and action is taken against PSI, it might be worth a shot, yeah."

They both fell into a rather uneasy silence as they both looked back at John, who was still talking on the phone.

"Why do you think Brother Benedict chose to intervene, Daniel?"

Daniel sighed heavily. "I have no idea. It terms of an Ascended Being, they would only interfere when something…terrible was about to happen. So, maybe he was just looking out for John's safety." He turned to give her a rather lopsided smile. "He is John's Guardian after all…"

Somehow, Teyla could find little comfort in that thought. What could possibly have been about to happen, that would have caused Brother Benedict to break his most sacred rules?

"Well," Daniel cleared his throat, and tried to sound rather upbeat. "Major Lorne and the others should be here shortly."

Teyla nodded and they silently turned back to watch John, who was still on the phone.

There was still something that had been mentioned earlier, that she couldn't help but wonder about. Although she had read Daniel's full report on the Vanir, it had made very little mention of the Asgard.

"Daniel, you spoke earlier of the Asgard being unable to clone General O'Neill. Why would they wish to do such a thing?"

He leant against the wall. "Well, it's a long story, but Jack became a sort of… legend to the Asgard. One of their scientists, called Loki, believed that Jack's DNA might hold the answers to their problems. So, in order to study him over a long period of time, Loki created a clone. But it didn't go quite according to plan, as the clone stopped growing before he reached maturity. Loki hadn't known that the Asgard government had placed a marker in Jack's DNA to stop such a thing from happening."

"I am sorry, I do not understand."

"The Asgard were an extremely advanced race, who wanted to extend their lifespans, so began to use cloning technology. Over several millennia of using this technology it began to damage and degrade the Asgard genome, which basically doomed their entire race. Although they devoted a considerable amount of time and resources to finding a cure, they were never able to do so."

John' sudden movement drew their attention back, as he appeared to have ended the call. He leant across the table to replace the telephone back in its stand**. **But, instead of standing up straight, he then rested both hands on the table, leant heavily on both arms, and his head dropped down between his now hunched shoulders.

Teyla did not need to see his face to know what he was feeling; his body language was literally screaming at her, and it caused her heart to twist painfully in her chest.

She could stand it no longer, and headed quickly for the door, closely followed by Daniel.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

As the two of them entered, John pushed himself up from the table.

"How did Mr Coalfield take to the news?" Daniel asked as he ambled towards him.

John sighed as he rubbed a hand through his hair. "About as well as can be expected, I guess. He never did like secrets, especially where I'm concerned."

"But surely he must understand the reason _why_ you cannot divulge such matters?" Daniel leant on the back of one of the chairs.

"Yeah, he does," John sighed as he pulled out the nearest chair and virtually collapsed into it. "But it doesn't mean he has to like it."

Daniel pulled out the chair he was leaning on and sat down. "No, I guess not. Will he look into it?"

"As we speak," John rubbed the back of his neck.

Teyla then sunk down in front of him, and placed a hand gently on his thigh. "Are you alright, John?"

Daniel suddenly felt rather awkward as the two of them stared deeply into each others eyes, and John gave her a slight smile.

"I'm…ok."

His voice had softened, but Teyla continued to stare up at him, clearly looking for the truth behind the words. He slowly sat forward, and took hold of her hands.

"Honestly, Teyla, I'm ok."

She continued to regard him carefully for a moment, then nodded and looked down at their hands.

Daniel cleared his throat and spoke slowly. "Well, Major Lorne and the others should be here soon. Maybe Brother Benedict can shed some light on why he felt the need to intervene."

John snorted somewhat sarcastically as he looked up and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah."

Daniel understood his anger. To have been so close to discovering the identity of David's captors, only to be 'pulled' away by a man that had been so adamant that he could not, and would not, interfere…

It was certainly going to be a very interesting meeting.

John suddenly drew a sharp intake of breath, his body tensed, and he looked quickly at the door.

"They're here."

**To be continued…..**

**Post script:**

I had a lot of information to put across, so I hope that it all made sense! A great deal had to actually be cut, as I felt it was too much too soon, but it will appear over the next couple of chapters, I promise.

The 'Millefiori stud' is indeed one of the items found, and can be seen on the Staffordshire Hoard website. In 2009, the artefacts were actually on display in the Birmingham Museum.

I could not find any reference as to whether Birmingham Museum does actually have a basement, or a 'Restoration Room', so in my little world it does.

The chemical John can smell is Sodium Thiosulphate, which is used for the restoration of paintings.

Major Lorne's team… Stevens and Walker were the two soldiers that died in the explosion at the cave, when they had been trying to extract the Iratus bug eggs to cure Sheppard. In 2009, Coughlin and Lieutenant Reed are still alive. Cooper and Armstrong are, however, completely mine.

I am on leave next week, so hope to post the next chapter a lot more quickly than this one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Blood of the Heir**

**Chapter 8**

Even though the inertial dampeners were working perfectly, Doctor Carson Beckett could still feel his stomach lurch uncomfortably as the famous shape of The Pentagon drew ever closer through the viewport ahead.

He knew that the jumper was cloaked, but it was still incredibly disconcerting: to be flying over the Headquarters of the Department of Defence in an alien spacecraft. According to Major Lorne, over 31,000 people worked there, and not many would have clearance to know about the Stargate Program.

Carson swallowed hard as the jumper turned sharply and headed for an area on the far side of the incredibly massive building. He hugged his rucksack more tightly to his chest, like it was some kind of safety blanket, and looked at the other marines, who were sat quietly with him in the hold.

On the face of it, all three men appeared completely calm and focussed. But their furtive glances to one another, confirmed that they weren't as comfortable as they seemed. Perhaps it was the strange presence of the monk, rather than the prospect of landing at the Pentagon, that was making them uneasy.

Though Carson didn't know Armstrong and Cooper that well, he knew Tim Coughlin. Just like Lieutenant Reed, Coughlin was one of the originals, so had seen more than his fare share of crazy. But even his expression seemed darker somehow.

"You ok, Doc?" Coughlin asked, as he caught Carson looking at him.

Carson just nodded, and then looked down at the floor. They were certainly carrying a great deal more equipment than was usually on board.

As most off-world teams all too often came under fire, Colonel Sheppard had insured that all jumpers would maintain a healthy supply of weapons, ammunition, spare tactical vests, as well as MREs, medicine and laptops. But, in addition to all that, there were now ropes, heavily loaded rucksacks, and hard cases, which Carson could only assume contained yet more weapons and ordinance.

Apart from the details he already knew, prior to the Colonel leaving for Earth, Carson had no idea what had happened since then. According to Major Lorne, Colonel Sheppard had not elaborated on the details. But, judging from all the gear, not to mention the presence of the Monk and the mysterious Rod of Janus, he had a feeling that they were about to launch a very different kind of Rescue mission.

The jumper began to slow, and Carson leant forward to look through the viewport once again. They were approaching a hanger, which looked strangely deserted, but the enormous doors were partially open. But the moment the Major flew the small craft inside, Carson could immediately see that the place was far from being abandoned.

It had everything one would expect to see in a fully operational aircraft hanger, but with a slight twist. Apart from the heavily armed marines standing around the perimeter, four F-302 fighters stood in pride of place. Though the jumper was still cloaked as they moved further into the hanger, Carson could see the stances of the marines immediately stiffen and moved their weapons into a more defensible position, as the slight wind indicated their invisible arrival.

The jumper came to a stop, and Carson could hear the sound of the drive pods beginning to retract, and then came the slight bump as they touched down.

Carson stood up and could instantly see four men standing outside the viewport. Ronon, Rodney, General O'Neill and a vaguely familiar looking man, whom he couldn't quite place. But Colonel Sheppard, Teyla and Doctor Jackson were nowhere to be seen. Major Lorne hadn't said anything about them being injured, but then there was no telling with the Colonel. Especially now.

The three marines began to ready themselves, as Lorne stood up from the pilot's seat, and looked straight at Carson.

"You ok, Doc? You look a little green there."

Carson gave him a rather shaky smile. "Aye."

The Major returned his smile, which quickly vanished as Brother Benedict slowly stood up, and Lorne took a very small step back, holding out his hand as he did so.

"After you, Brother Benedict."

The monk just smiled as he graciously inclined his head, but remained silent as he walked through the doorway that Carson had quickly vacated. Lorne followed him through and began to pick up his own gear, when Lieutenant Reed spoke up.

"Sir, haven't you forgotten something?"

"What?"

Reed pointed back into the cockpit. "The artefact, sir?"

The Major grimaced, and then looked straight at Brother Benedict, who stood waiting patiently to one side. A rather strange smile appeared as he slowly shook his head, as if he had responded to some unspoken request.

To Carson, it was an extremely disconcerting thought to know that the monk had the ability to read people's minds…who knew just what he was able to extract, without you even knowing it.

Major Lorne sighed and then looked straight at him.

"Er, Doc, you wanna carry it?"

Carson quickly held up both hands. "Ach, nae! There's nae tellin' what might happen!"

The Major struggled not to smile. "Don't worry, Doc, I don't think it has any drones, so you should be fine."

"Ye cheeky bugger," grumbled Carson, as he swung his rucksack over his shoulder and grabbed a nearby bag.

Even though it had been over six years ago, the story of how Carson had inadvertently set off a drone from the Chair in Antarctica, which had almost killed both General O'Neill and Colonel Sheppard, still continued to be brought up every once in a while.

"C'mon Doc, it isn't even on."

"Then why don't ye carry it?"

Lorne glared at him, and then stomped back through to the cockpit. He hesitated for a moment, just staring at it suspiciously, and then picked it up. When nothing happened, the Major let out a breath of relief, though he still looked apprehensively at it.

"Major?"

The sudden voice of General O'Neill made Lorne and the other marines instantly snap to attention.

"Sir."

The General now stood at the entrance to the jumper, whose hatch had been lowered.

"Watcha doing?"

"Er," Lorne held the Rod out to him. "Getting this, sir."

"You sure that's wise?"

Lorne glared at Carson again. "No one else would touch it, Sir."

The General actually grimaced. "Not really surprised, Major. _I_ wouldn't wanna touch it either."

Naturally, that didn't help matters, and Lorne just looked even more uncomfortable.

"C'mon, Major, let's go give it to its rightful owner."

Lorne quickly led the way out, and Carson hurriedly followed him.

"Carson." Rodney stepped forward just as Ronon moved towards the entrance, presumably to help carry some of the bags. But his entrance was instantly blocked by someone standing in his way.

As he slowly moved his eyes up the black BDUs, he didn't show one flicker of emotion as his gaze came to rest on the face of Brother Benedict.

Both men stared at one another; the dark brown eyes of Ronon's silently challenging the white penetrating gaze of the monk, and the atmosphere instantly became electric.

Carson couldn't understand it. When the Colonel and the others had left Atlantis, Brother Benedict had no longer been considered a threat, and walked freely around the city. So what could possibly have happened since then, for Ronon to behave in such a way? The big Satedan looked like he was literally ready to tear the smaller man to shreds.

"Ronon!"

Carson hadn't realised that he had been holding his breath until he heard the sound of Colonel Sheppard's commanding voice echo loudly across the hanger.

Carson's earlier concern about the Colonel was quickly dismissed, as he watched the man stride hastily towards them, closely followed by Teyla and Doctor Jackson. The Doctor could easily match the Colonel's long strides, but Teyla had to keep breaking into a jog just to keep up.

The Colonel looked rather irate, as he gave the General a brief nod, and then walked straight up to the two men. The Colonel didn't even acknowledge Brother Benedict, but spoke quietly to Ronon, who then gave a frustrated growl and stormed up the walkway and into the jumper.

Carson then expected the Colonel to say something to the monk, so was rather surprised when he turned away.

"Major?"

Carson couldn't help but smile a little at the look of intense relief on Lorne's face, as he virtually double timed it over to his CO, holding out the Rod like it was some kind of explosive. Even the Colonel's expression appeared to soften.

"I believe this is yours, Colonel."

The handover was quick, as if Lorne was expecting it to turn on the moment the Colonel touched it.

"It's turned _off_, Major." He looked almost amused.

"I know that, Sir."

Colonel Sheppard actually smirked as he turned to Carson, which then broke into a genuine smile.

"Hey, Doc."

Carson gave him a rather bemused smile of his own. "Colonel. I'm glad to see ye in one piece."

His smile faded. "Yeah, well, you're not here to patch me up this time."

Carson's own smile shrank. "Hae ye had any…. news?" Somehow he still couldn't quite bring himself to say the word 'vision', especially in a place such as this.

The Colonel grimaced, and all trace of humour had now gone. "You could say that, yeah."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The tension was palpable, and filled the large office that General O'Neill had led them to. Luckily there were enough places around the table, and all twelve seats were now taken.

Naturally, the General took the place at the head, with John sat at the opposite end. Teyla sat on John's left, and to his right was Brother Benedict, though John had not acknowledged him once. Daniel sat on the other side of him, as he was the only person who seemed comfortable enough to be sat that close to the monk.

Rodney sat on Teyla's left and Ronon was on his other side, who just kept glowering at Brother Benedict.

Rodney, with a little help from Daniel of course, had just finished bringing Major Lorne and Carson up to speed. As both the Doctor and the Major sat further down the table, Rodney could clearly see the expressions of utter astonishment and concern, as they tried to wrap their heads around all the information.

But John still had yet to speak. They had yet to hear about his latest vision.

"Oh my God…" murmured Carson slowly, as he stared wide eyed at each of them in turn. "The Vanir?"

"We…_think_ so, yeah," replied Daniel, and John sighed heavily as he studied his linked hands on the table.

Carson apprehensively nibbled at his lower lip before he spoke again. "Dae ye know how yer brother is doing, Colonel?"

Rodney braced himself as he watched his friend grimace.

"Not good, Carson. He's hooked up to some kind of drip, though I couldn't tell what the clear liquid was. His heart rate is low, as is his body temperature. But the fact that his chest is bare, and lying on a cold operating table, isn't helping matters." He took a deep breath, and looked back down at his hands for a moment, plainly steeling himself to continue.

"Although he is tied down, the slightest move causes extreme pain, especially down the neck and spine, and breathing is equally as excruciating.

He has not been able to tolerate food or fluids for a while now, though his head injury appears to have stopped bleeding. He has some serious bruising over the majority of his chest, which would indicate that the tests are… progressing."

With his detailed report now complete, John inhaled sharply, and his lips tightened to a thin line as he looked back down at his hands.

Rodney shuddered at the mental images of John's description. He had not elaborated on the latest vision until now, so none of them had truly known the extent of David's condition. What the hell were they doing to him?

"De ye think the bruising is from an impact, or a reaction of some kind?" Carson asked gently.

John's reply was immediate. "Definitely a reaction."

"And ye say he is at the Birmingham Museum?"

"Yes."

"Not the most sterile of places to operate…." He cringed the moment he had uttered the words, and looked instantly pained. "Sorry, Colonel."

"It's ok, Carson," replied John, as he rubbed his hand across both eyes. "They don't appear to have…opened him up in any way. I think that most of what they have been doing to him has been via the IV or through direct injections."

Rodney cringed.

"If only we knew what the fluid was, I might be able te start workin' on some kind of retrovirus…"

"Yeah, well, if _someone_ hadn't stepped in, we might have known at least who was responsible…" John's voice had hardened and for the first time since they had arrived, he now looked slowly at Brother Benedict.

The atmosphere in the room had already been tense, but as they began to stare at each other, the air became heavy and electrically charged. It was as though both men were challenging the other through the power of their energies. Rodney ears began to pop and all could see the blue beginning to appear in John's eyes once more.

"Sir," John's voice was low and menacing, though he did not take his eyes of Brother Benedict. "I think it might be an idea if everyone leaves. Now."

Everyone exchanged rather nervous glances, but O'Neill stood up. "Ok, people, you heard the man. Let's leave them to it."

Rodney felt torn. Even though he knew he couldn't really help, and didn't actually want to witness a potential showdown of ascended powers, he hated to leave his friend alone. What if he needed backup? Ronon clearly felt the same way, as he too, had remained in his seat.

"Ok," O'Neill sounded belligerent. "So, what part of that did you _not_ understand?"

Rodney knew better than to argue, so reluctantly stood up, and Ronon growled quietly as he did the same. But Daniel and Teyla still had yet to move.

John still did not break eye contact with the monk. "Teyla, Daniel, you too."

"No, John." Teyla replied so firmly, that John turned his now blue eyes to look at her. She lifted her chin, and met his gaze with stubborn defiance. Rodney had seen that look too many times before. She wasn't going anywhere.

John sighed and then gave a slight nod of agreement.

"Daniel?" O'Neill stood at the doorway while the others began to leave, as did Rodney and Ronon.

"Nope." Daniel folded his arms. "I'm not leaving either."

O'Neill glared at him, and then looked at John. "Sheppard?"

John had returned his gaze back to the monk. "He can stay, sir."

"Alright. But, please, don't…break anything, ok?"

John's smile was not in the least bit humorous. "No promises, sir."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Rodney, can I ask ye a question?"

Rodney didn't look up from his tablet that Lorne had thankfully brought with him from Atlantis. He hadn't found any additional information that might be of use about the Vanir, so he had moved onto researching the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, thanks to the Pentagon's fast network.

"Sure, Carson."

"How is Colonel Sheppard doin? Really?" Carson's tone was hushed to the point of sounding conspiratorial.

The question made Rodney instantly stop and look up. He sighed heavily as he placed the tablet down onto his knees. "Good question. Honest answer? I have no idea. On the face of it, he's coping pretty well, considering. But, deep down?" Rodney shrugged.

Carson smiled sadly at him. "Aye. The Colonel always seems to bounce back, no matter what."

"Yeah. But there's still so much we don't know…that _he_ doesn't know, about his…powers." He looked back down at his tablet, and mindlessly fiddled with the case's leather handle. "I dunno, Carson. It just seems to bring out the darker side of him somehow."

"What de ye mean?"

Rodney paused, wondering if he should divulge his concerns, but he knew that he could trust Carson implicitly. He quickly glanced at the others, who were all talking quietly, so he shifted a little closer to his friend, and lowered his voice even further.

"When James Coolidge wouldn't divulge the location of Strom, he took him into a room to see if he could get Coolidge to talk."

"And?"

"The guy refused, of course. So he took action…"

Carson frowned. "Action? What kind of action?"

"The ascended powers type of action…."

Carson's eyes widened and Rodney continued. "Yes, I know it was only to be expected, but…you should have seen it. It was like some kind of…." Rodney shuddered the moment the word entered his mind.

"Kind of what, Rodney?"

Rodney stared hard at him. "Like some kind of _Wraith_…."

Carson looked horrified. "What?"

"He… seemed to be able to somehow enter Coolidge's mind, and exert some kind of, I dunno, pressure or something. The guy was in agony, Carson. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though I haven't seen people being questioned before, or that the guy didn't have it coming, but…I'm not sure what would have happened if Mitchell hadn't interrupted him."

At the time, Rodney had wondered if John would just continue until the man's head literally exploded. It had certainly felt like his own was going to, and he wasn't even the one his friend was focussed on.

"Oh my God…."

"I know. I just wish it didn't cause him…. so much pain all the time." Rodney's throat tightened suddenly, and he looked back down at his tablet.

"Well, now that Brother Benedict is here, perhaps he can help," offered Carson gently.

Rodney couldn't help but snort.

"What? I noticed how Ronon was weith him earlier… "

"Let's just say that everything that we thought about him; is now up for debate."

Rodney glanced at the adjoining wall, and once again listened for any sounds that might indicate just what was going on in there. But the rooms appeared to be either sound proof, or very little was being said.

He wasn't overly happy about Teyla being in there either, but John had strangely agreed for her, and Daniel, to remain.

So at least he wasn't alone.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Alright, let's try this again, shall we?"

John breathed out deeply as he walked slowly up and down the length of the room, with his arms held loosely behind his back.

But the sudden flash of a distant memory appeared before his eyes, caused him to instantly cease his pacing.

Dave, dressed in one of his favourite Armani suits, arms neatly linked behind his back, was standing in a court room. John had seen him a few times in action, and the guy certainly knew how to manipulate a room. His use of silence, in the way that only the best lawyers knew how, had always impressed him. He used the same techniques himself.

But the sight of his brother, looking healthy and comfortable in his natural environment, pulled painfully at his heart, and just served to heighten his frustration even further. He tried to keep his voice calm and even.

"Explain to me why you decided to intervene."

He instantly felt the 'push' against his mind once again. Ben had been doing it since they had arrived, but John had deliberately chosen to ignore it. But now his patience was running out, and he was utterly sick of it.

He turned sharply and glared at him. "Would you just stop that!?"

Benedict, who still remained in his seat, rather annoyingly just inclined his head.

"Well?" _Answer me. _

"You were in danger."

Finally, they were getting somewhere!

But John frowned. "How is that possible? I wasn't even technically there."

"But you were." Ben's voice was ominous, and he could feel the monk's energies ripple and touch his own.

"What?"

Ben blinked slowly but remained annoyingly silent.

John's frown deepened. "So how was I in danger?"

The monk hesitated for what seemed like minutes, and John had to fight the burning desire to throttle him where he sat.

"You wished for power of sight, and sight came. If they had seen eyes of David Sheppard glow, they would know you were present."

John rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he resumed his pacing.

Well, part of that was true; he had wished to be able to see the sign on the wall, and he had felt the powerful energy in his eyes. But what could _they_ have possibly have done to provoke Ben to break his rules? It also occurred to him that, in order for him to intervene, he would also have been watching the whole time. And that didn't help temper his rapidly building frustration either.

"I could not allow that to happen."

John's energy surged and in one fast yet fluid move, John was then in front of him and bent down low, so that his face was now merely inches away as he pointed a finger at him. He spoke slowly and very deliberately, his anger barely under control.

"Ever since we met, you have given me the ancient, 'I must not interfere' crap!But, you broke _those_ rules the moment you pulled me out. Which means that you _can_ help, you just choose not to. Why is that?"

Benedict just blinked at him.

John growled and spun away, running a hand through his hair as he did so.

He had known that this conversation wasn't going to be easy, and that it would truly test his patience, and probably his powers, which was why he had wanted to do this alone. But, the composed yet silent presence of Teyla, gently touching at his heart and soul, seemed to be keeping him from totally losing it. It was as though she was grounding him somehow.

He took another deep breath, turned slowly around and tried again.

"Ok. So you were obviously watching. Therefore you must know who '_they'_ are."

Silence.

John took yet another deep breath in and let it out slowly, and consciously unclenched his fists that he hadn't been aware of until now. Perhaps it was time for a more direct approach.

"Ok. Let me put it another way then."

He once more moved in front of Ben, and very deliberately leant both hands on the arms of his chair. "Did Carl Strom cause you to break your rules of non-interference?" He couldn't put in any simpler than that!

"You know answer."

John felt his energy surge so strongly that he had to resist the temptation to actually….do something with them. Instead, he pushed himself away from the chair and turned in a tight circle.

"Oh for crying out loud, just answer the damn question!"

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"I'm warning you, McKay, if you don't sit down right now, I won't be held responsible for my actions!"

Rodney glared at General O'Neill, but did as he was bid, but sat on the edge of his seat. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not good at sitting still!"

"Major Lorne brought your tablet, so how about you play with that some more. It must have Solitaire on there or somethin'."

Rodney rolled his eyes. Sometimes the General really knew how to get under his skin. "I don't use it to play games, General."

"Whatever. You seemed quite distracted by it earlier."

"I'll have you know that I was researching the Birmingham Museum."

O'Neill's expression actually changed, as did his tone. "Find anything useful?"

"Yes, I did actually." Rodney couldn't help but gloat. It was then that he noticed that all other chatter had suddenly stopped. He had the full attention of the room.

O'Neill sat forward in his chair and stared at him. "Well? So? What?!"

Rodney cleared his throat.

"At this time of year, the schools are off on their summer holidays. Which means that tourism is usually at it's busiest. The Museum is normally open every day till 1700 hrs. But…" He held up a finger. "For some strange reason, the Museum has had to close until further notice."

"Why?" O'Neill demanded bluntly.

Rodney stared meaningfully at him. "The website doesn't give a specific reason. It just says, 'due to unforeseen circumstances'."

"Oh, so they have gone for that line, have they?" O'Neill snorted.

"They?" Carson asked rather hesitantly, which just earned him a rather withering look from O'Neill.

"The IOA."

Carson just looked blankly at him.

O'Neill looked incredulous. "Didn't you know that the IOA have offices in England too?"

Carson's mouth hung open. "I…had no idea…"

O'Neill waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, never mind. If Strom is in town, you can pretty much guarantee that he will have the British representative tap dancing to his tune."

"You think that the IOA are responsible for closing the Museum, sir?" asked Lorne slowly.

"With potential alien visitors coming? You bet your sweet ass they would close it down."

Silence fell, just moments before a sudden shout was heard from the next room.

"_Oh for crying out loud, just answer the damn question!"_

Rodney winced and looked quickly at the others.

He knew that, even when heavily provoked, John Sheppard was not generally a 'shouter'. But, hearing him now, it was clear that the monk was testing his friend's patience to the limit.

"Er, I think I'm gonna see if I can find some sandwiches or something…Can I get anyone anything?" Rodney asked quickly, but everyone shook their head. "Ok, I'll be right back."

As he left, he heard Ronon speak up, but surprisingly it didn't sound in the least bit sarcastic.

"He eats when he gets nervous."

Rodney would usually agree, only this time, it wasn't because he was hungry. He just couldn't bear to just sit around, potentially listening to his friend battle it out with the weird monk, and being completely unable to help.

He also had nothing to occupy his mind, which was making him antsy. He desperately needed something to do. And then he remembered that neither John nor Teyla had eaten anything for quite some time, so would probably appreciate some food, when they eventually came out. He just hoped he could remember the way to the cafeteria.

At least he now felt like he was doing something useful!

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

"Your suspicions are correct, young heir. It is Vanir."

"Now was that so hard?"

John felt his energies become abruptly still, as the words registered in his mind, and he then felt incredibly lightheaded. He quickly bent forward and leant heavily on the table.

"John?" Teyla began to stand up, and he lifted his head to look at her. He was instantly overwhelmed by the raw power of their love, which began to make his head spin. No longer having any control over his feelings, he was becoming an emotional wreck!

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but knew it didn't quite convince her as she still remained out of her chair. But he needed to sit down before he fell down, and carefully made his way back to his seat.

"_Respirare_", Benedict murmured quietly, _"non combatteria…"_

John knew that he _wasn't_ fighting it, and he _was_ breathing, but his head still felt so light that he was getting extremely dizzy, so he sat forward, rested his head in his hands, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Within seconds he felt the gentle touch of Teyla hand on his back, slowly rubbing up and down, and thankfully everything slowly began to settle.

"I should no intervene…It is very bad."

"Brother Benedict. With all due respect, you are no ascended being," said Daniel quietly, and John was immediately grateful for his steady presence.

"The 'Others' have no say over what you do. It's not as though they can whisk you away. So what have you to fear?"

"You are right, Doctor Jackson, I am no ascended."

Daniel continued to push on John's behalf. "So, what, your soul burns in everlasting damnation? You must repent your sins?"

"I would no longer be Tutelar to the Heir. I would be called…back."

John slowly opened his eyes and sat up, and Teyla removed her hand. Thankfully the room had stopped its incessant spinning. "Back where? By whom?"

"You know answer."

John couldn't help but give a rather shaky laugh. "What, Janus?"

The moment he had uttered the words, John instantly remembered. "You said that Janus had been watching me for years. Is he… still watching me?"

"Of course."

He felt a sudden chill run through him.

The moment that he had realised that Dave was in danger, all thoughts about the actual Legacy of Janus, and the implications of him being it's Heir, had immediately taken a back seat. But Ben's words suddenly brought it all flooding back.

John sighed. Would his life EVER be straight forward?

He looked at Benedict more carefully. What had he called it? The 'Power of Sight'.

When he had first experienced it in his office on Atlantis, he clearly remembered that when he had looked at Ben, he could have sworn that he had seen two people. He had later dismissed it, putting it down to the fact that his brain had virtually exploded in his head. But now, he wasn't so sure…

He leant his head on one side, his voice now soft. "Who are you Brother Benedict? I mean, really?"

Silence was the only answer he received, which made him feel so terribly alone again. So many feelings…so little control….so little help….

He felt his throat constrict painfully, as the deluge of emotions once again hit him like a tidal wave, and he swallowed hard. He forced himself to speak, but it came out rough and broken, as he spoke from the heart.

"You say that you are my Tutelar, my Guardian. But where is your guidance? Where is your…_help_?"

He never considered himself to be too proud a man to ask for help when he needed it, but the sheer power of his emotions caused his voice to break as he uttered the final word. He looked down at his hands, feeling incredibly exposed. He could feel Teyla's energies reaching out to him, trying desperately to offer some reassurance.

Ben was suddenly kneeling at his feet, and John looked up into his white eyes. The man actually looked intensely sad.

"I _am_ your Tutelar, John Sheppard. I have sworn to protect you, to watch over you, and have done so since your birth. You are not alone."

Protect him? The deep rooted scars in his heart and his mind begged to differ. His heart twisted painfully, as he found little reassurance in any of the man's words, but didn't feel his voice was up to responding, so remained silent.

"'For He who looks outside, dreams, but he looks inside, awakens.' Both heart and mind show you answers, but yet you still ignore."

John's eyebrows slowly rose. Was Ben finally offering his help? It certainly appeared that way, as he seemed to be providing the interpretation to his own rather cryptic messages.

He cleared his throat. "You mean the…flashbacks?"

John had not spoken of those to anyone.

Ben nodded slowly. "When you used energies to question James Coolidge you began to unlock knowledge. But, too much, too soon. You must use Rod to bring balance and order to your mind, and energy will flow true once more."

John grimaced. "Great. More pain."

"Only if you fight."

"Yeah, I know. Like water…"

Ben smiled sadly at him. "_Si_, like water."

Silence fell, though the tension in the room had eased considerably.

John leant back in his chair and regarded the monk warily, who remained kneeling at his feet. Was he truly offering his help?

He waved his hand in the air. "Get up Ben, please. You don't need to kneel to me."

The monk graciously bowed his head. "Your bloodline is noble, young Heir of Janus. You are…unique."

John grimaced again. "Yeah, like I needed to be reminded."

Ben moved smoothly to his feet. "Come." He then held out a hand, and John looked at it rather suspiciously. "Let me help you now."

John raised an eyebrow. "Ben, you are giving off some seriously mixed messages, you know…"

The monk smiled. "Come."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Teyla watched as John and Brother Benedict positioned themselves on the floor of the office. Sat crossed legged and facing each other, the monk began to speak softly, once again in Italian, as John prepared himself to connect to the Ancient device.

Although she still did not trust the monk she knew that, when it came to helping John with his powers, there was no one more suited to the task than Brother Benedict. And, whilst the monk was obviously reluctant to intervene, he was clearly supporting him now, and for that she felt nothing but relief.

But, whether it was due to the incredibly powerful emotions she had felt earlier from John, or the extreme tension that had been in the room, she wasn't sure, but she was now beginning to feel rather light headed.

John responded briefly to Brother Benedict in Italian, and then activated the Rod. Its bright blue glow matched the colour of John's eyes, and within seconds it began to 'sing,' signifying that the connection had been made. But where John had looked so tormented by his onslaught of emotions, he now looked calm and peaceful once more.

"Teyla?" Daniel's soft whisper sounded in her ear. She had been so caught up with watching John, that she had not even noticed Daniel leave his chair.

She looked up at him and he smiled gently.

"Wanna get some air? I have a feeling this might take some time, and I don't recall you having eaten for a while."

Perhaps that was the reason why she felt so light headed…

She inclined her head and began to stand, but the room suddenly shifted, and she reached out blindly, and instantly felt the steadying hand of Daniel take her own.

"Teyla?"

Although John appeared to be deeply connected to the Rod, the sound of his voice clearly showed that he was also very much aware of his surroundings, and of her.

"You ok?" John spoke again, a little more urgently this time.

The room began to ease its spinning, and she looked across at him. Even with his blue eyes, his concern was unmistakable and she gave him a rather unsteady smile.

"I am… fine, John."

"You're not fine, Teyla," Daniel added firmly, as he continued to steady her. "You haven't eaten for hours. Let's go get you some food and something to drink."

She glanced back at John, who nodded. "Go on, Teyla. I'll be fine."

"Very well. I will bring something back for you. For you have eaten as little as I…"

John gave her a gentle grin. "Bad as each other, huh?"

"Indeed. "

As her head still felt light, she was grateful for Daniel's assistance as he guided her out of the room.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

Once outside, Teyla staggered as another wave of dizziness hit her, but luckily Daniel had a firm hold of her, although he now shifted his position to wrap an arm around her waist, just to be sure.

"Whoa…perhaps this was a bad idea," murmured Daniel, as he looked down at her. She looked incredibly tired and rather pale.

"I am fine, Daniel. Just….give me a moment." She slowly breathed out through pursed lips.

"Is she ok?" Rodney's rather alarmed voice came from down the corridor as he hurried towards them. Rather ironically, he was holding two plates of sandwiches.

"Just hungry…I think," replied Daniel slowly, as he continued to regard her carefully.

Rodney instantly held out a plate. "Here. I got these for you and John…"

Teyla gave him a tender smile. "Thank you, Rodney."

"Where is everyone?" asked Daniel, as he looked in the direction that Rodney had just come from.

"Oh, we've all been in the office next door. Didn't want to be too far away, just in case…you know…we were needed." Rodney shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "C'mon."

Daniel kept a firm hold on Teyla as they made their way slowly towards the next office.

It wasn't surprising that everyone shot to their feet, as Rodney virtually threw the door open so hard, he was amazed it was still on its hinges.

"Hey, guys."

"Daniel?" Jack was immediately concerned when he saw how he was holding Teyla, and Carson instantly stepped forward.

"Teyla? What es it, what's happn'd?"

"I am fine, Carson." She gave Daniel a grateful smile, and stepped out of his tight hold. She then made her way rather carefully to a chair and sat down.

"I felt rather dizzy there for a moment or two, but it appears to have eased off a little now."

Rodney promptly stepped forward and very deliberately put his plate on the table in front of her. "Yeah, well, none of us are getting any younger. We can't go all day without food like we used to, you know."

Ronon snorted.

"So, what happened? Have they finished?" Jack and the others returned to their seats as Teyla slowly began to eat. "I didn't hear any explosions…so I guess that they haven't killed each other…"

"No," Daniel smiled, as he pulled a chair. "It got a bit heated there for a moment, but they seem to have reached an understanding."

Jack cocked an eyebrow questioningly at him.

"Brother Benedict seems to have agreed to help."

"Well, that's a first. I thought that went against his 'non-interference' policy," said Jack, rather sarcastically making speech marks in the air.

"Yeah." He sat back in his chair. "John called him up on that. Took rather a lot of…persuasion to get him to explain, but he basically said that John had been in danger of being discovered."

"How? He wasn't even technically there…was he?"

"Apparently, he was. You know when John's eyes glow so brightly that the energy seems to…."

"Like the guy in Dune…" offered Rodney quickly, which caused a few smiles around the room.

"Yes, like that," replied Daniel slowly. "Benedict called it the 'Power of Sight', which apparently he was using during the vision. If they had seen David's eyes glowing like that, it would have revealed John's presence…"

"So, are you saying that Sheppard wasn't having a vision, but that he was actually IN David's body?" Jack stated incredulously.

"Apparently, yeah."

The room fell silent, as no one really knew what to say.

Daniel cleared his throat and sat forward. "Benedict also confirmed that it is the Vanir after all."

Jack snorted and shook his head. "'Course it is. Can't have just a normal abduction can we? Gotta have some kind of alien bad guys…"

Jack stood up and began to walk up and down the room as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, what are they doing now?"

Daniel glanced briefly at Teyla, who had stopped eating and returned his gaze. John was an incredibly private man at the best of times, so wouldn't appreciate it if they knew just how emotional he had become. Bearing that in mind, Daniel wondered whether that might actually be connected with Teyla's sudden dizzy spell.

Knowing just how close the two of them had now become, both mentally and physically, Daniel wondered just how truly 'connected' they now were. After all, Daniel had seen John 'share' his energies with her, and didn't doubt it would have happened again since then. So it was feasible that maybe John's powerful emotions had somehow affected her too.

"John is using the Rod of Janus," Teyla replied slowly.

"I wondered if that's what I could hear," commented Jack, as he glanced at the connecting wall. Sure enough, the sound of the device could now be heard.

But, where it had always sounded rather sorrowful to Daniel, it seemed to sing so differently now. The tones were stronger, faster, and less of a minor key, and more in the major. It was more of a melody now, like a song of celebration.

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

_OFF…._

The Rod instantly responded to John's thought, and the connection was broken. He breathed out slowly and opened his eyes.

With Ben's assistance, the connection had been much smoother, easier, and just as he had predicted, the Rod had indeed brought balance and order back, and his energy felt more centred.

But it wasn't just that which made him feel so different. He actually felt stronger, more energised. More importantly, he now felt ready for what lay ahead.

He had been right; the Rod had contained serious amounts of data on the Vanir. But what he had learned….

He pushed himself to his feet, and couldn't help but instantly notice how effortless the movement had been. He began to move around the room, testing his body. Every single ache and pain had now gone. His muscles felt strong, powerful, and energised. It appeared that the Rod had done more than rebalance his energies and emotions. It had also healed his pain.

"You feel good effects, _si_?"

John grinned. "Yeah. Why is that?"

"The Rod is more than just Keeper of Knowledge. You know this. But now you open your heart, and you look within. You do not fight, and you accept. You now see who you are."

"Who I am?" he echoed quietly. He would have to think about that later.

"Look, I get the whole not fighting thing, Ben, I do. And I have been trying not to do that. But usually there's some kind of…pay back whenever I've connected to it before. Was I doing it wrong?"

"No wrong, young Heir. You just did not know how to do better. Now you do."

John stared at him for a moment, and then inclined his head. "Thank you."

"_Prego_."

John began to make his way towards the door, but he sensed Ben hesitate, and looked back over his shoulder at him. All humour had completely disappeared from the monk's face.

"I will try, young Heir, to help where I can. But the line that I now walk? Very dangerous for me."

Ben certainly did look worried; an expression he had not seen on him before. He turned around.

"Janus."

Ben nodded slowly.

"Then perhaps I need to have a word with him…."

Ben smiled sadly at him, which instantly disappeared and his voice hardened. "You forget. He knows. He always knows."

**SGA SGA SGA SGA**

The door opened so quietly that no one else heard it. Apart from Teyla, who knew who it was before it had even opened.

She said his name on a breath. "John."

All discussions instantly ceased as he walked in, with Brother Benedict close behind.

"Sheppard. It's about time," said General O'Neill, trying to sound brusque, but even she knew he was relieved to see him.

John looked rather embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Sir."

"So, you er….manage to sort things out?"

John then gave them all a genuine grin. "Yes sir."

"Well, Sheppard," the General looked him up and down. "Whatever that Rod does, it certainly seems to have done you some good. You look…better."

John bounced on his toes as his grin widened. "Yes Sir. I feel better too."

Teyla was absolutely astounded at the transformation. He had been so drained and exhausted when she and Daniel had left earlier, that she had been reluctant to leave him. So, she had fully expected him to look more tired and drawn, just as he did whenever he had connected to the Rod.

But the difference now was incredible. The way he now carried himself and the sparkle in his eyes…. he just looked so rejuvenated. But what struck her more than anything was his energy. It felt …amazing. It literally took her breath away.

As if he had heard her thoughts he instantly looked at her, his expression now one of concern.

"You ok?"

She smiled tenderly at him. "I am now."

She had not intended to give such a forthright answer, and instantly wondered if she had inadvertently exposed their relationship. Although they both fully intended to tell everyone, now was most definitely not the time to broach the subject, and especially not in front of General O'Neill.

John moved easily towards her, and squatted down at her feet, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Hey." His voice was gentle and tender.

Her concerns quickly disappeared as she looked back at him, and she couldn't help but smile. He looked so very handsome, staring up at her….

"You sure?" His dark hazel eyes still had the residual sprinkles of blue.

"I am fine, John. I was merely a little dizzy. But Rodney very kindly brought us some food, which seems to have helped."

He didn't speak. He just stared into her eyes, and she instantly felt the wonderfully familiar touch of his mind against hers. But, where it had been a gentle whisper, it was now much stronger, clearer.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, then swivelled slightly on his toes to look over at Daniel. "Both of you. You didn't need to be there, but I appreciate it."

"Hey," Daniel grinned, "someone had to make sure that you weren't going to trash the place."

"Ok, Sheppard." General O'Neill was once more using the voice of command and John drew himself up tall. "You get the intel you need?"

"Yes sir. More than enough."

"Alright then." He gestured for him to take lead. "Go ahead."

"Thank you, Sir." John slowly surveyed everyone in the room. "First of all, I would like to give each and everyone of you a chance to back out before we proceed. As the General said, we are gonna have to go dark, which means…we are on our own." He then looked directly at Colonel Mitchell and Major Lorne. "If this goes south, I don't want your careers to suffer because of me."

The Colonel slowly stood up. "This is what we _do_, Shepp."

John looked at the Major, who also got up and replied crisply, "my team and I await your orders, Sir."

Rodney stood and folded his arms across his chest, and gave him a tight lipped smile."Hey, who else is gonnacome up with impossible solutions, against impossible odds, in order to save the day?**" **

Carson also stood, as he held out his hands. "Well, I brought all mah gear. It would be a shame tae have tae take it all back…."

Ronon pulled himself out of the chair. "Just gimme my gun and someone to shoot."

Daniel looked sincerely at him as he also stood. "No where else I gotta be. No where else I'd rather be."

General O'Neill nodded once. "Covert ops or not, I got your six, son."

John then looked down at Teyla. She did not need to speak of her commitment to him, for he already knew.

His eyes remained on her for a moment, and she could see that he was clearly overwhelmed by their unwavering support, as his eyes were glassy and he swallowed hard. But he quickly regained control, and looked back up.

"Thank you. All of you."

His voice now sounded strong and focussed.

"Ok. Here's what I want to do…"

**To be continued…**

**Coming up: The Rescue!**

**Post script:**

Thank you so much for all your reviews. I always try and reply to every single one, unless they are left by Guests, in which case I can't respond to them personally.

So I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you all now. Especially to Kieran, Sara, and Laura, who have continued to review nearly every single chapter since I first started posting my stories.

It's what keeps us writers going, so please, keep them coming.

I am frantically writing the next chapter, so hopefully you won't have too long to wait. Though I do have quite a bit of research to do, as I take our team into full 'black ops' mode….


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